


Words Fail

by EagleInFlight



Series: Words Fail [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Epic Friendship, Hugs, Hunk is the best friend you'll ever have, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith is bad with feelings, Keith just wants to be friends with Lance, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance's childhood, Pidge is just awesome, lance's memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-16 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EagleInFlight/pseuds/EagleInFlight
Summary: A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance's mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance's memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself.





	1. Melding of the Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody! This work takes place after the ninth episode of season 1: Crystal Venom. In my story, quintessence is like a life energy/force, because that's how I always viewed it until the recent ep. (SEASON THREE WAS SO GOOD GUYS! AAHHH!) Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> THIS WAS INSPIRED BY THE SONG "Words Fail" by Ben Platt! LISTEN TO IT IF YOU GET THE CHANCE, IT'S SO HEARTWRENCHING AND SO LANCE.

_'Cause I've learned to slam on the brake_  
_Before I even turn the key_  
_Before I make the mistake_  
_Before I lead with the worst of me_  
_I never let them see the worst of me_  
  
_'Cause what if everyone saw?_  
_What if everyone knew?_  
_Would they like what they saw?_  
_Or would they hate it too?_  
_Will I just keep on running away from what's true?_

 

* * *

 

 

     Lance collapsed onto his back, wheezing on the cold floor. Sweat glistened underneath his unitard that he wore beneath his armor, and he was not looking forward to prying that off his skin afterwards. His face mask fogged with each exhale and de-fogged with each inhale.

     “Well done, paladins!” Coran’s chipper voice sounded through his comm.

     Lance bit back a scoff. The five paladins had been forced through training stimulation after training stimulation all morning, each one more terrible than the last. While, yes they had made it through a successful level, it was not a pretty picture. But like his old swimming coach used to a say: a win’s a win, no matter how ugly it was.

     “That was adequate,” Allura said. “Again.”

     Lance’s breath came out weird as he struggled to keep the groan from coming out. A “Hmmmffffphhh” sounded from his lips, yet Hunk said what they all probably were thinking.

     “A-again? Don’t we get like a water break or something? Or maybe like a nice cold snack?”

     Lance rose to a sitting position, sharing a quick look with Pidge who was the nearest to him.

     “Again,” Allura stressed.

     “Well,” Lance muttered to Pidge. “It was nice knowing you. I think my heart’s going to give out at this next run.”

     Pidge snorted, and her peeved expressions softened.

     “Princess,” Shiro spoke up. Ah, the fearless leader, the voice of reason, Allura had to listen to him. “We’ve been running ragged all morning. My team, _we_ , are due in for a break.”

     “You’ll get a break when—” her voice was suddenly muffled as if someone were covering it. Harsh indecipherable whispers sounded over the comms.

     While a part of Lance felt bad for Allura, since she just sacrificed her father’s artificial memory and her last connection to him, he couldn’t summon any pity for her now. She was pushing them way too hard, using them as means to cover up her own grief.

     Lance was all too familiar with it.

     He scanned the others, Keith sat near Hunk, rubbing a tender spot on his right shoulder. Lance grimaced. He had collided pretty hard into Mullet-boy earlier, earning several insults regarding Lance’s incompetence.

     Shiro had a graze across his temple, where Lance nearly shot his old-time hero in the face.

     Lance rubbed his wrist, feeling the surfacing pain throughout his body. Man, he was going to be sore tomorrow.

     “Very well!” Allura shouted. “We will commence for a quick break. Then we’ll be doing some mind-bonding exercises.”

     Collective groans spread across the paladins, save for Shiro whose only reaction was a flash of irritation.

     “Drink some water and regroup. I’ll talk to her,” Shiro said.

     However, not even Shiro, was able to convince her out of it.

* * *

 

     Lance sighed as Coran stepped back from him, adjusting the last electrode connected to the center of Lance’s forehead. Lance wiggled his forehead, seeing if the electrode would plop off. It stayed.

     Coran left and Lance glanced at those sitting in the circle around him. Pidge to his left, then Hunk, Keith, and Shiro to his right.

     “Paladins, in this mental exercise, I want you to focus on a specific team member. My father, King Alfor...” Allura’s voice cracked.

     Lance thought of his own father, Papa. A mental image of a man with wavy black hair, a fine ebony moustache, and a bit of a pot belly that shook when he laughed, surfaced in front of Lance. He quickly suppressed it, the image gone in a blink.

     Shiro noticed and furrowed his brow.

     “My father,” Allura continued once more when she regained her voice, “told me that the bond with the other paladins was just as important as the bond with their Lions. Do you know each other? Do you know your teammates’ fears? Do you know what they love? All of these are important.”

     Suddenly, Lance didn’t like where this was going.

     According to those in the circle around him, everyone except for Hunk, shifted, very uncomfortable with this.

     “Ah, come on, Allura,” Lance said. “We all know that Hunk’s afraid of snakes and loves burritos. We all know Pidge is...”

     “Lance,” Allura interrupted.

     Lance swallowed.

     “I want to cover more depth than that.”

     “What if we don’t want to share that with the group?” Keith said. “You can’t force us to bond if we’re not ready to reveal ourselves.”

     “I have to agree, Allura,” Shiro said. “I don’t know my own fears, and I can’t subject them to my team that if I’m uncertain.”

     “Trust takes time to build,” Allura said. “I understand. My father always told me that it must also be earned. Today we will start easy. We focus on positive attributes of each paladin. We’ll focus on what we like about that person and project a mental image of how we view them.”

     Okay. That was easy enough, Lance thought.

     “We’ll start with Shiro and go around,” Allura said.

     “What are we supposed to think when we’re focused on ourselves?” Hunk asked.

     “Project what you like about yourself,” Allura said.

     “What if I don’t have any positive traits to think about Keith?” Lance teased.

     “Hey! I should be saying that about you,” Keith argued.

     “Guys,” Shiro warned.

     “The point of this is to start looking at our teammates in a positive light and to see what you can trust about them,” Allura said. “No lies. The electrodes can pick that up, and also no negativities.”

     That last part was stressed, and obviously addressed to Lance and Keith.

     Lance huffed and pursed his lips to the side.

     “Let’s begin. Think about Shiro. Think about what you like about him.”

     Lance closed his eyes. This was easy. Hero. Great Leader. He thought about Shiro’s _blam-blam-blam_ , and added: Goofy Dork. Brave.

     “Shiro, look and see how the others view you.”

     Lance peeked through his eyelids and saw that his mental projection of Shiro showed him standing proud, with one fist on his hip. The background sparkled like fireworks, giving him a heroic background, and Lance bit back a chuckle he noticed Shiro’s other hand posed in a gun-mode.

     Tears welled in Shiro’s eyes as he took in each image. Shiro’s image was similar to those around him, yet less bright, and he looked more like the man sitting in front of him.

     “Keith.”

     Lance had no idea why his mental projection of Keith had a fancy-styled mullet, with daring smile as he sat on his motorcycle. He looked ready to tackle on anything.

     “Hunk.”

     Lance’s version of Hunk made his friend look like a warm teddy bear, the bandana wrapped around Hunk’s head fluttered to the side as if it were a cape billowing in the wind, and he held up a meat cleaver with a mischievous grin.

     “Pidge.”

     Pidge’s body projected like a badass Transformer, green-and-white robotic like torso. Her face was normal except her glasses shimmered with light and her hair flowed more, giving her more of a feminine look. Her mouth was twisted like she was cackling, yet in a good way.

     Pidge saw herself as half a girl and half a boy, yet she seemed confident like that. It took a while for her to summon up an image for herself, but she did.

     Hunk saw himself as a great chef and people person.

     Keith saw himself as a great pilot and dare-devil.

     “Lance.”

     Okay. Lance inhaled deeply. Positive traits. What did he like about himself? Hmmm, he was a handsome fella. Great with the ladies. Charming. Good pilot.

     “ _I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out.”_

Lance winced. What was it that Allura said? You couldn’t lie? Okay. Maybe he’s not a good pilot.

     He was charming...

     “ _Wow, you really are just a pretty face. How did you get into the Garrison?”_

Come on, Lance. It shouldn’t be this hard. _I’m funny, I have a good sense of humor._

     _“You’re so annoying! Don’t you ever shut up?”_

Something tugged at his brain, and he heard a distinct sound of someone laughing. It sounded so familiar. Where had he heard it?

     “Lance?” Shiro asked.

     “I’m sorry,” Lance cried out. “I’m trying...”

     “It’s okay,” Shiro said. “You seem to be struggling...”

     “Just pick one positive trait, Lance. We know you think you have a bunch, but at least narrow it down,” Keith grumbled.

     Lance squeezed his eyes harder. Come on. _I’m a good friend. I’m a good caretaker._

     He could feel a mental image forming. Good. Yeah. He got this. He totally got this.

     _A good son._

     A memory flashed across his mind. Screams and cries. Anguish sobs. Emotions flooded throughout him.

     “Lance!” Pidge cried out.

     Lance snapped his eyes open to see his teammates all gripping the electrodes connected to their foreheads. Their faces were grimaced in pain.

     “What?” he exclaimed.

     The mental image they all projected flickered and blinked out before Lance could get a good look at them.

     The laughter sounded around Lance once more...except it felt like it was more in his head.

     “ _And there’s the weak link,”_ the voice cackled.

     Lance froze, suddenly recognizing the voice.

     “Guys! It’s...” Blackness washed over him and spilled through his vision. His head spun and he grabbed at it as if it would stop. A tightness formed in his chest and it spread.

     He shot back and landed on his back with a loud cry.

     Lance blinked at the dark sky, creepy gray clouds streaked across like a bad black-and-white horror picture. He reached his hands out and gasped as he felt grass. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and realized he was no longer in the stimulation room.

     He was in a graveyard, lined with broken and jagged tombstones. It stood at the edge of a cliff where black waves crashed upon it, beating upon an abandoned shack to the left.

     There was something eerily familiar about this place.

     Groans sputtered out behind him. Lance spun around.

     Shiro, Keith, Hunk, and Pidge slowly got up, brushing themselves up. They were dressed in their casual, everyday wear.

     “What just happened?” Hunk exclaimed, panic rolling in his voice. “Where are we? Why are we in a graveyard? Oh, man, if I see a zombie...”

     “Calm down, Hunk. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this,” Shiro said. He glanced about, confusion etched upon his features.

     “This place gives me the creeps,” Pidge said.

     “Paladins? Can you hear me?” a voice boomed from above.

     “Coran?” Lane yelled. “What the heck happened here?”

     “Oh good, you can still hear me through the comms,” Coran said.

     “Comms?” Shiro cocked a brow. “Coran, none of us are wearing comms.”

     “Yes, you are,” Allura said. “Paladins, please, remain calm. Your bodies are all unconscious in the stimulation room right now.”

     “Unconscious?” Keith said. “I thought you said this mental-stimulation was safe.”

     “It is!” Allura snapped back.

     Shiro held up a hand. “Guys...” He sighed and glanced up at the sky. “Allura? I thought you and Coran said that you cleared the Castle of further corruption from the Galra crystal.”

     “Ah, great, the Castle attacking us again?” Lance whined.

     He shivered and rubbed his arm. First he was trapped in the cyropod, then the airlock, and now... He wheezed.

     “Are we trapped in OUR minds?” he blurted out in a panic.

     “Actually,” Coran said and Lance could picture the Altean holding up a finger, “you’re trapped in one mind.”

     “Who’s?” Hunk wondered.

     “Who is this disturbing?” Pidge added.

     She stole a nervous glance at Shiro, while Hunk and Lance looked over at Keith.

     “Hey! Why are guys looking at me?” Keith growled, folding his arms across his chest.

     Lance shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

     “We’re trying to figure that out,” Allura said. “Coran, is there any way you can snap them out of this virtual world?”

     “Not without repercussions,” Coran said. “I helped Grekti build this, it wasn’t only built to strengthen the mental bonds between a paladin and their lions, and their teammates.”

     “What was it built for?” Shiro said.

     Silence was their answer.

     “Coran?” Allura pressed. “What are you...”

     Her voice trailed off.

     The others glanced at each other, biting their lips, shifting on their feet. The tension build.

     “Oh dear,” Coran said. “I...this...”

     “Care to share with the rest of the class?” Lance teased. “The suspense is killing us.”

     “Ahem,” Coran said. “All of you are trapped in a mind, yes. In the main mind room, which Grekti like to call it the Core Room, it reflects...”

     “Coran,” Shiro interrupted. “The point?”

     Coran sighed. “You’re trapped in Lance’s mind.”

     Lance felt his brows shot up. His heart seemed like it skipped a beat.

     “What?” Pidge exclaimed.

     Shiro and Keith’s head snapped to Lance in surprise.

     Hunk gapped at Lance, swallowed, and then his eyes grew wide with concern.

     “Ah, not what I was expecting,” Hunk said. “But, it’s eh homey.”

     Lance swallowed. “How long until you can get us out of here?”

     Cruel laughter echoed, growing louder with each tick. Lance stepped back, eyes darting to locate where it was coming from.

     The others were doing the same.

     “Is...is that...” Shiro’s voice held a trim of panic.

     “Sendak,” Keith said, saying the very name as if he made a promise to kill the Galra.

     “It’s not Sendak,” Allura said. “A small part of his memory, or rather his quintessence remained in our system. This corruption is what locked you all in Lance’s mind.”

     “And I’ll ask again,” Lance said, losing all patience. “How do we get out?”

     The ocean water roared and spilled onto the graveyard. Lightning flashed throughout the sky and a rumble trembled around them, rattling Lance’s chest.

     “Lance,” Coran said. “Please, remain calm.”

     Shiro reached out and gripped Lance’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

     “How did Sendak lock us in here?” Keith asked.

     “Because someone disobeyed my rules,” Allura said. She sounded disappointed. “They allowed negative thoughts to overcome their projection and it allowed Sendak to slip through.”

     Oh, no. Dread filled Lance’s stomach and he stepped out of Shiro’s grip. It was all his fault.

     “Lance?” Shiro questioned softly.

     “I’m sorry, guys, I didn’t mean...”

     “It’s not your fault,” Shiro said. “Don’t blame yourself. We’ll get out of this.”

     “How do we get out of this?” Pidge asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

     “Coran?” Allura pressed.

     “Grekti created this as a means for a paladin to strengthen their bond...toward themselves.”

     What?

     Coran continued. “He was a firm believer that while a paladin may face many enemies flying in their Lion, the first and foremost enemy they must defeat is themselves.”

     “So the others have to beat me up and then they can get out of this place?” Lance said.

     “No, Lance, in order to escape your mind, you must travel through and defeat...your inner self.”

     Lance swallowed. “Why? Me and myself are great buddies. We get along just great.”

     “Ha. What a joke.”

     The paladins froze. Lance stepped back and turned his upper torso to the newcomer.

     It was Lance...except his skin was dark, like their surroundings, and his eyes were white, pure white. He flashed a smile, bearing his sharp fangs. “You’re a joke. You know it. And your teammates know it.”

     Lance flinched, his dark self’s words slicing pain in his chest.

     “Whoa, Lance, your other self is kind of mean,” Hunk said.

     Dark Lance smirked. “Aww, Hunk. That kind of hurts. I thought we were best friends, buddy. But, hey, I get it. You’re starting to realize the truth now. Lance is not worth being your friend. He’s disposable.”

     Keith stepped forward, with a raised fist. “Either shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

     Lance blinked at Keith.

     Dark Lance threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, how precious. So eager to defend your _rival._ ” Dark Lance’s laughter grew cruel. “Want to know the truth? Lance never hated you. Oh, but did he envy you! He wanted to be like y-”

     “Shut up!” Lance yelled.

     “What’s wrong?” Dark Lance challenged. “Don’t want Keith to know that it wasn’t him you hated, but yourself?”

     Lance’s fist shook at his side. Damn it. His dark self was right, but he didn’t want his truth exposed in front of his teammates. He didn’t want them to see how pathetic and weak he really was.

     “No pithy remarks?” Dark Lance teased. “Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

     Lance huffed and turned his chin to his shoulder, averting his glare.

     “Since I’m awesome, I’ll allow you guys to leave peacefully. Except for Lance. I’ll protect Team Voltron and keep him under lock and key,” Dark Lance said.

     Lance squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the sting of tears. He wondered briefly how he could feel so human in his own mind.

     A hand laid upon Lance’s shoulder and he opened his eyes with a soft gasp. Shiro smiled reassuringly at him before redirecting a heavy glare at Dark Lance.

     “I’ve only known Lance for a short time, but I’m certain of one thing, I want him on my team, and we’re not going anywhere without him,” Shiro said.

     Dark Lance tossed his head back and cackled. “You’ll change your mind. I’ll guarantee it.”

     “Come on, Lance, go over and defeat that ass,” Keith encouraged. “Let’s get out of here.”

     Dark Lance winked. “You’ll have to catch me first, Pretty-Boy.”

     Keith blinked, breath in his throat, startled.

     Dark Lance vanished in a blink.

     “Geez, Lance...is that...” Pidge slowly turned and glanced up at Lance. “Is that how you talk to yourself?”

     Lance swallowed a lump and averted his gaze. “Uh, Coran, how do we...ahem, how do I defeat him?”

     “I don’t know,” Coran said. “It’s...it’s never been done by any paladins before.”

     Lance winced. Of course. Why was he not surprised? He was weak, pathetic...

     “Damn it, guys,” Lance shouted. “Why didn’t you all leave when you had the chance? Now we’ll all suck here and we won’t be able to form Voltron, and the universe is in danger!”

     “Well, Shiro didn’t really give us a choice,” Pidge muttered under her breath.

     Lance inhaled sharply.

     Pidge widened her eyes. “Uh, I mean, even if he had, we wouldn’t leave you, Lance. We’re a team!”

     Arms wrapped around Lance and he couldn’t help a smile forming. Hunk’s hugs were the best. He returned it and faced his best friend.

     “He’s lying, you know. You’re worth it. You’re the best friend I’d ever had,” Hunk said.

     “Coran, Allura,” Shiro called out. “How do we move forward from here? What do we do next?”

     “Find Lance’s other self, and defeat it. Sendak’s quintessence has summoned him forth,” Coran said. “Your other self will be hiding in your memories, Lance. There should be a doorway in your Core Room that shall take you deep into the consciousness of your memories.”

     “Sounds like fun,” Lance muttered. “Do the others have to come on this joy ride? There’s stuff here that...”

     Hunk released Lance from his bear hug and winced. “Lance? We won’t judge you. We won’t look at them if you don’t want us to...”

     Lance stared at them, panic rising. He’s always worn a mask, played a facade in front of them...sure, he liked to goof off and play around, but sometimes he took it too far.

     “Lance,” Coran said. “Listen, my boy, believe in yourself. You can do this. You have everything within you to defeat your...darker self.”

     Lance looked into the determined features of his teammates. They all nodded and smiled reassuringly.

     What did he do to deserve them? What did they possibly see in him?

     “Okay, Lance, this is your mind, where do you feel like you’ll find a door?” Shiro asked.

     Lance’s gaze first drew him to the ocean, the cliff. Something tugged at his heart at the sight of the waves but...Lance’s eyes went over to the shack. The waves beat against it. The pizza shack that overlooked the water...

     He went there with his family a lot. Why did it look so run-down and broken in his mind-place?

     “Over there,” Lance said, pointing to the shack with his forefinger.

     “In the creepy haunted building,” Hunk said meekly. “Great.” He hiccupped and covered his mouth.

     “No puking in my mind,” Lance said, narrowing his mind.

     “Technically, it wouldn’t really be puke, but an imagined facsimile of one,” Pidge said.

     “Facsimile or not, no puking.”

     “I’m curious,” Keith said. “Why does your..” he paused, his lips pursed as he tried to remember, “er, um, Core Room, look like a graveyard?”

     “And we’re moving along,” Lance said. “Next stop in the tour of Lance’s mind is Gustavo’s pizza shack! Looks a bit worse for the wear than usual, but the pizza is the best on the island!”

     He ignored the shared looks of concern among his teammates. He didn’t want to see their pity, or their worry for him.

     As he drew close, the ocean waves increased, the roar drowning out all other sound. He stared at the entrance with trepidation. Okay. _Breathe. Just find your dark self and get out of here. Easy peasy. Piece of cake. No worries. Hakuna Matata._

How can he defeat Dark Lance when Lance knew deep in his heart, that he didn’t deserve to get out of here?

* * *

 

     Back at the control panels, overlooking the stimulation room, Coran watched the five paladins sprawled across the floor, chest raising and falling as if in slumber.

     Above them played a screen of what was transpiring in Lance’s mind. The five of them were walking to a strange housing that seemed to have gotten hit by Altean fire rain.

     Allura approached his side and pressed the mute button, so that the others couldn’t overhear their conversation.

     “Coran, I know you, and I know when you’re lying. You know how Lance can defeat his inner self.”

     Coran closed his eyes and stroked his mustache. “Yes, my dear, I know. And before you ask, no, I cannot tell him how.”

     Allura nodded, understanding. “It’s an answer he must discover for himself. Is it true that the paladins of have never used this feature?”

     Coran opened his eyes and tapped his chin. “Grekti and I forbid it. If we forced a paladin under this before they were ready to face their inner truth, we could trap them in their minds for a long time. As honorable as Grekti’s intentions were, someone’s mind is a dangerous place to tread upon lightly.”

     “You seem to speak from experience,” Allura said. She covered her mouth as her eyes lit up in realization. “You were the test subject. That’s how you knew.”

     Coran chuckled. “Walking through your mind reveals things you wish to keep hidden from yourself.”

     “Coran, if Lance is unable to...”

     “He must...” Coran said. “I have faith in him. Just in case, though, we’ll work to get the other paladins safely back into their own bodies. They’ll be out of commission for a while, but the more they walk through Lance’s mind, the easier it’ll become to extract the other paladins. Unfortunately...”

     Coran dropped his hand and writhed them together.

     “The further Lance walks, the harder it’ll be to extract him. That’s why we must offer him support, Allura.”

     “I understand. We’ll stand with the Blue Paladin. We will not abandon him,” Allura said.

     Coran chuckled. “I’ve come to grow rather fondly of the boy.”

     Allura smiled. “I think I’m beginning to understand him.” Her face fell. “Coran, you know the traits of the Blue Paladin, as well as I do.”

     “I know,” Coran stressed. “That’s why we must figure out a way to get him out of there...otherwise...”

     “He will die.”


	2. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance's mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance's memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos. You sure know how to make someone feel special. Here's the next chapter! It may seem like they are bouncing all over Lance's memories, but stick with me! It will all connect! I PROMISE! Thank you for reading. <3  
> Pst...is it October yet? I'm so ready for Season 4!

_Words fail, words fail_   
_There's nothing I can say_   
_Except sometimes, you see everything you wanted_   
_And sometimes, you see everything you wish you had_   
_And it's right there, right there, right there_   
_In front of you_   
_And you want to believe it's true_   
_So you... make it true_   
_And you think maybe everybody wants it_   
_And needs it... a little bit... too_   
  


* * *

 

When Lance opened the door and stepped into the shack, a flash of white light blinded him. He winced and shielded his arm from the light before it settled. He lowered his arm and gasped.

     The inside of the shack was a simple building, carved and made of dark-wood. It was crammed with people, and servers bustled about, with trays of pizza and drinks.

     A lump formed in Lance’s throat and a tightness grew in his chest. He’d dreamed of coming back here, of returning home and getting pizza with his family at their usual four-tables-pushed-together in the back. On breaks from the Garrison, Lance and his family always came here on his first and last night.

     “Lance?”

     Lance turned to Hunk and the tightness turned a pattering worry. “Where are the others?”

     Hunk jerked his head about, scanning the crowded place for the other three paladins. Lines creased around his eyes. “I dunno, they were right behind me, and then...”

     “Garlic KNOTS!” a voice cut through Hunk’s sentence.

     Lance yelped and stepped back as a kid stormed between them, rushing for the long table in the back. His gaze followed the kid. It was him...wow, he was lanky for a four-year-old. He’d forgotten how tiny and skinny he was then.

      Young Lance reached the table, standing on his tip-toes to reach for the platter of garlic knots between his Uncle Rio and Aunt Natalia. His fingers grazed the edge before it was picked up and passed down the table.

     Young Lance pouted and rushed down to the other end, reaching for the platter that his Abuela now holds.

     “Ah! Alejandro!”

     Young Lance winced and lowered his hand.

     Abuela scowled at him with a fierce glare.

     Lance could feel his younger self’s emotions swell up within his own chest.

     Papa’s mother never had any love for Lance. He never knew exactly why she hated him.

     “Lancelot!” Papa exclaimed, leaning back in his chair next to Abuela. He had a thick black mustache, earning a few grays there before the hair on his head. He had a bit of pot belly that he blamed on the garlic knots. Papa scooped Young Lance up and tickled his stomach.

     Young Lance laughed.

     Tears welled in Lance’s eyes as he watched the interaction, a sharp pang tugged at his heart. He missed Papa.

     “I saved your favorite,” Papa said. He plucked a garlic knot from his plate and handed it to his son.

     Young Lance happily devoured it.

     Hunk chuckled from next to Lance. “You’ve talked about this place a lot. I never knew you started going here when you were in diapers.”

     Lance smiled. “Papa was good friends with the owners.”

     “Why come to this particular memory? Was it random?” Hunk asked.

     Lance pursed his lips. That was an interesting thought. He scanned the crowded restaurant for Dark Lance. “Do you see the creep?”

     “Lance!”

     Lance shot his head in the direction where Hunk was pointing.

     What the hell?

     Dark Lance sat at the table across from Abuela. He gave a short wave with his hands.

     Lance bolted after him, Hunk close by his side.

     Lance grunted as someone smacked him in the shoulder. This was a memory! Why did it feel like they were wading through a crowd like he traveled back in time and was physically here?

     When the two of them reached the table, Dark Lance was gone, replaced by his five-year-old older brother Javier.

     “Who’s that?” Hunk asked between breaths.

     “I hear you’re starting swimming this summer,” Abuela said.

     Lance searched about for Dark Lance.

     “Hmm-hmm,” Young Lance said from Papa’s lap, chewing with a mouth full of bread. “I’m getting faster! I almost beat Javier today!”

     Javier beamed at this. “He did! And that’s with his floaties! He’s going to be EPIC when he gets them off!”

     Abuela’s lips were in a thin line. “I see. How old were you, Javier, when you stopped wearing them?”

     Javier shrugged. “I dunno.”

     Papa’s expression darkened. “Mami. Don’t.”

     “Just before he turned four. You are nearly five, Alejandro. You have a lot of work to do to be as good as your older sister. She’s the top elite swimmer in her district. And your brother, Javier, is swimming with an older age group.”

     Young Lance lowered his hands, shoulders slumped forward.

     “Mami,” Papa snarled, getting up with Young Lance. “Don’t do that with my kids. Leave the parenting to me.”

     “You’re too soft with him, Estevz.”

     “Let’s go feed the seagulls, Lancelot,” Papa said, guiding a dejected Young Lance from the table.

     Hunk backed up, allowing the two of them to pass between Lance and Hunk. He turned to Lance and opened his mouth to say something.

     Lance caught movement behind Hunk. A shadow hovered in the corner near the back door. “Hunk!” He brushed past his friend and they stormed out the back door...

     ...and into a beauty salon.

     It was a small, simple salon. A nice greeting counter up front with four waiting chairs along the window of the salon.   A barking raucous laughter sounded in Lance’s ears. He grinned and spun on his heels.

     His Mama’s mother, who Lance fondly called Abue, sat at the styling chair, receiving a pedicure. The other five chairs along the wall were filled with Mama, Marisoa, his eldest sister, Natalia, his aunt, Alondra, his older cousin, and Sandra, another cousin.

     Another younger Lance stood in front of them, hands shoved in a royal-blue hoodie. Dio Mios. He must be at least eleven or twelve.

     Hunk laughed. “Is that your Abue? You always talked about her,” he said as he pointed to the round woman. Her hair a bright pink.

     Lance grinned. He loved Abue. She didn’t care what people thought about her. She was fiery and had a sharp tongue. He always had a feeling that Abue would outlive them all. She was in her late eighties now, and had more spunk and flexibility than those half her age.

     Abue clasped her hands and laughed again, the woman in front of her shook her head in amusement as she worked on Abue’s feet. “Say that last part again.”

     Teenage Lance’s cheeks grew red. “Uh, I checked her shirt label and said: ‘Just as I thought: Made in Heaven’.”

     Abue clapped her hands and laughed some more, leaning forward as she did so.

     The rest of the women next to her had the grace to hold in their laughter. They held a hand over their mouths or forced it back with a smile.

     “Abue!” Teenager Lance cried out. “It’s not funny. She rejected me.”

     “Oh, honey. You just remind me so much of your Abu.”

     Lance smiled sadly at that. Abu passed away before Lance was born, but Abue always told Lance stories about him. It made him often wonder how well they would’ve gotten along if he’d been alive.

     “Do you want to know what pickup line he used on me?”

     Lance chuckled, already remembering the answer. He recited it the same time his Abue did:

     “Is there a doctor in the house? Because you just stopped my heart.”

     Teenage Lance rolled his eyes. “That worked? That’s so lame!”

     “Sometimes lame is better,” Abue said. She smacked her hand on the chair next to her. “Now, sit there and we’re going to teach you the fine arts of how to pick up a woman.”

     “Mother!” Mama exclaimed. “You’re not going to teach my son...”

     “You rather he learn from his father, or worse, his uncle.”

     Natalia winced. “She’s got a point.”

     Mama widened her eyes. “Natalia!”

     “The best line a guy used on me,” Marimosa said, “was that he only had eyes for me.”

     Teenage Lance sat in the chair next to Abue.

     Abue snapped her fingers. “Give him a pedicure too! Women like their men well-polished and neat.”

     Hunk laughed. “So, I’m assuming they are the reason for your facials every night.”

     “They introduced me to every pickup line on the planet, and every beauty techniques too,” Lance said. “I did it mostly to hang out with them. For some reason, I always got along better with girls.”

     “I don’t get it. Why were you so afraid of allowing us to see this?” Hunk said. “Your family is great.”

     Lance swallowed a lump, and the memory around them darkened.

     Hunk rubbed his arms. “Whew. The temperature dropped all of a sudden.”

     “We...we should probably find the others,” Lance said. “Coran! Allura?”

     The chatter behind them were the only noise they heard.

     “Do you want to know what Lance is afraid of having you see, Hunk?”

     They spun and instead of Teenage Lance, Dark Lance sat in the styling chair, getting his foot massaged. He sighed and sunk lowered into the chair. “Man, remember how much we used to love this? Allura needs to get something like this in her Castle.”

     “Get out of there,” Lance said. He took a step forward and Dark Lance vanished. Lance blinked.

     He reappeared next to Hunk.

     “Boo,” he whispered.

     Hunk jumped back, hand over his chest.

     Dark Lance pointed over Hunk’s shoulder. “Look.”

     Lance’s heart pattered as he watched the wall where his family was disappear. Salt water filled his nostrils as a gust of wind roared at them.

     They stared at the sight of dark storm clouds looming over a cliff, waves smacking hard against it.

     _“LANCE!”_ a voice screamed from the waters.

     White edged Lance’s vision. He gripped Hunk’s shoulder. “Come on!”

     Hunk released a cry as Lance yanked him back, rushing toward the door of the beauty salon. The waves poured onto the floor from the wall and Lance kicked open the door.

     Hunk and Lance tumbled onto a couch.

     Hunk panted and turned to Lance. “That...that was the same cliff in your Core Room,” he said. His eyes narrowed as he inspected his friend. “Something happened there, didn’t it?”

     “Hunk...” Lance sighed. “Look, I...” He swallowed a lump.

     Hunk’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to tell me. But...why are you running from it?”

     Why? Lance glanced down at his hands. Because...because...tears welled. What would Hunk say if he knew? Would he agree to what Abuela said about that event afterwards?

     Hunk would apply what happened that night to Voltron, and realize, as much as he liked being Lance’s friend, he couldn’t be Lance’s fighting comrade.

     Lance didn’t have a place flying Voltron. He wasn’t the right paladin for Blue.

     If Blue knew...

     She would reject him.

     He never showed that memory to her.

     He only shared the good times with her.

     “Lance?” Hunk pressed.

     “ _Oh, oh, oh, ay, no hay que llorar!”_

     Lance and Hunk glanced up as another Lance strutted into the room, dancing, his nieces and nephews trailing behind him.

     Lance was in a dress and wearing a light-blue towel as a headdress. Blue eye shadow and red lipstick were haphazardly placed on his features, no doubt by the little munchins behind him.

     “ _Que la vida es un carnival,”_ Headdress Lance sang.

     “Is this before you left for the Garrison?” Hunk asked.

     Lance chuckled. “Yeah. They’re my older sister’s and Natalia’s kids. I babysat them a lot growing up.”

     “You miss them, don’t you?” Hunk said.

     Lance watched his other self dance and sing terribly in front of the kids fondly. “Yeah.”

     “I know your family is important to you,” Hunk said. “I can’t make promises, but you’ll see them again. I know it.”

     Lance scoffed. “I’m not so sure they’ll want to see me.”

     Hunk furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Did you leave on bad terms?”

     Lance raised his gaze, watching as Headdress Lance strutted his hip back and forth. “No. But I proved her right.”

     “Your...Abuela?” Hunk asked softly, treading carefully.

     _“I promise you, they’ll see like I see you,” Abuela snarled._

     Lance pushed back the harsh memory.

     Hunk glanced about. “That voice...”

     Lance cringed. “You heard that?”

     “We’re in your mind,” Hunk said, looking guilty for even hearing it.

     Lance rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Hunk. For getting you stuck in here.”

     Hunk smiled. “Lance, it’s not your fault. We’re friends...actually, look, my mom always told me that family were the people who saw you and accepted you for who you are. You’re family, Lance. You saw everything about me and accepted it, even my anxiety. What makes you think I won’t do the same for you?”

     Lance’s lower lip quivered. “Damn it, Hunk. You’re going to make me cry.”

     The two buds hugged on the couch, to the song of _La Vida Es Un Carnaval_ playing in the background.

     “THERE!” Coran’s voice bellowed.

     Lance and Hunk pulled apart with a startled scream.

     “Extraction ready! Hit it, Allura!” Coran yelled.

     Lance cried out as Hunk vanished in a puff of white light. “HUNK!”

     He rose to his feet, spinning around as he searched for his friend. “Coran? What happened? Where’s Hunk?”

     His heart thumped and thumped as he waited in the silence. He was about to search in another room when Coran’s voice stopped him.

     “Everything is bright and dazzle,” Coran cheered. “We’ve got Hunk back.”

     “What?”

     “Hunk’s back in his body. He’s waking up,” Coran said.

     Lance held his breath. Hunk was okay?

     “Buddy?” Hunk’s voice mumbled as if he woke from a deep sleep.

     Lance sighed in relief. Good.

     “What about the others, Coran?” he asked.

     “When the others followed you through the door, they were shot to various parts of your memories. They are unaware and partially asleep. I think when you find them, they’ll think no time has passed.”

     “So, what I go through another door?” Lance asked.

     “Or you can just run back to the same one you came through. Because you’re a sniveling coward.”  

     Lance turned and glowered at his dark self.

     Dark Lance leaned against the wall with a smirk. “What? Oh, right, gotta pretend you’re a brave courageous hero.” He chuckled. “Go on. Keep playing that part. It’s entertaining to watch.”

     “Funny you call me the coward. I’m not the one running away from me!”

     Dark Lance threw his head back and laughed. “We’re just playing a game of cat and mouse. You know, another one of your favorite movie sayings.”

     Lance’s fists clung to his side. He never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life. He wondered if he would take the phrase: ‘stop hitting yourself’ to a whole new level.

     Dark Lance chuckled. “Oh, that’s funny. If you want to punch me, you’ll have to stop running from what I’m trying to show you.”

     Thunder clapped, and its vibration shook through every nerve in Lance’s body.

     “I wonder why you miss the rain so much?” Dark Lance said. “I hate the rain.”

     That made no sense. That meant that a part of him hated the rain. Lance didn’t. He loved the refreshing rain on a hot summer day, the smell of salt and rain in the air, and jumping in the puddles.

     There was no rain when...

     Dark Lance stared at him, urging him to remember. “No rain when...what?”

     Lance took a step back. He shot his gaze to the picture frames along the mantle of the fireplace in his family’s home. There was one of a thirteen-year-old Lance with Papa, laughing in the rain.

     “You mean, when Papa died?”

     Lance flinched.

     “When it should’ve been you?”

    


	3. Red 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance's mind. Hunk has been freed, but the other four are still trapped, and Lance is reminded of his dark secret involving the death of his Papa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you FOR THE SWEET REVIEWS AND KUDOS AND BOOKMARKS. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Thank you for continuing with this story and sticking by me. <3 Please, let me know if there are any errors, I edited this with an exhausted mind. <3

_I never meant to make it such a mess_  
_I never thought that it would go this far_  
_So I just stand here sorry_  
_Searching for something to say_  
_Something to say_  
_Words fail, words fail_  
_There's nothing I can say_  
  
_I guess I thought I could be part of this_  
_I never had this kind of thing before..._

* * *

_“I wonder why you miss the rain so much?” Dark Lance said. “I hate the rain.”_

_That made no sense. That meant that a part of him hated the rain. Lance didn’t. He loved the refreshing rain on a hot summer day, the smell of salt and rain in the air, and jumping in the puddles._

_There was no rain when..._

_Dark Lance stared at him, urging him to remember. “No rain when...what?”_

_Lance took a step back. He shot his gaze to the picture frames along the mantle of the fireplace in his family’s home. There was one of a thirteen-year-old Lance with Papa, laughing in the rain._

_“You mean, when Papa died?”_

_Lance flinched._

_“When it should’ve been you?”_

* * *

 

      “What?” Hunk gasped. He covered his mouth as bile crept up his throat, itching to expel his stomach contents. He forced it down, staring hard at the projection playing above him.

     It played like a movie screen, and Hunk felt sick watching Lance’s inner mind play out his darkest secrets, and Hunk watched it, his curiosity soaking it up.

     This was his friend’s emotions playing before him.

     How could Hunk easily watch it, when Lance was terrified at what he faced?

     Lance had recoiled at his darker self’s words. He took a step back, yet something caused him to regain his ground. He held his chin up. “Shut up. Don’t you dare bring Papa up.”

     “Why not?” darker Lance sneered.

     “Hunk!” Allura appeared in front of him, plucking the electrodes from his forehead. “How do you feel?”

     Hunk whimpered, stole one last look at his best friend’s darkened expression and did something he was glad no one else was here to see: puke all over the Princess’ dress.

* * *

 

     “You were so happy to see him earlier,” Dark Lance said. “You wanted to hug-”

     “Shut your quiznak,” Lance said. He held up a finger and jerked it at Dark Lance. “You don’t get to talk about him.”

     Dark Lance crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t tell if you’re still blaming yourself for it, or if you’re refusing to acknowledge what happened.” He blinked as something else dawned upon him. “You don’t blame me, do you?”

     Lance huffed. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. Papa...” A wave of emotions slammed against his chest and he tried to inhale a breath. An ache filled his heart. He clenched his fists and stepped back. Dios mio. It was both.

     Lance blamed himself...and ran away from the memory of that night.

     Dark Lance watched him closely.

     Maybe that’s what Dark Lance’s purpose was here in his mind. To lead him to the truth that Lance already knows. A stupid and pointless game of Cat and Mouse.

     Lance brushed a thumb against his nose and grinned.

     Well, two can play that game.

     Dark Lance straightened himself hearing that thought.

     Lance bolted for the entranceway of the door. He jumped through the doorway and...

     ...landed on the back of a long double-seated jet ski. His uncle, Gustavo, from his mother’s side, had an old boat that he and Lance transformed into a powerful jet ski.

     Fifteen-year-old Lance was at the steering wheel, whooping and cheering as Gustavo held on for dear life.

     Screaming sounded in Lance’s ears and he snapped his head to the left to find Pidge’s mouth open in horror. She turned her wide-eyes at him.

     “Hit the boosters, kid!” Gustavo yelled.

     15-year-old Lance clutched the throttle and neon-green light flared on both sides of the jet ski. The world whipped around them, and the bouncing on the hard waves made Lance glad that Hunk wasn’t here to puke all over him.

     Pidge reached out to Lance and gripped his t-shirt. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPID PAST SELF!”

     “Then don’t look ahead!” Lance screamed back.

     Pidge did, as most would when someone tells one not to do something. If it were possible, her screaming increased.

     Ahead were various rock pillars, the gap between each were narrow and slim.

     Lance cackled as he felt the euphoria and happiness from his younger self. He whooped as 15-year-old Lance maneuvered the jet ski toward the small opening between two thick pillars, the waves smacked hard against them.

     Gustavo covered his eyes. “WATCH OUT FOR THAT OVERHANG, LANCE!”

     15-year-old Lance pushed down the steering wheel of the jet ski, the nose of the ski slipped underneath the surface of the water as did the rest of the ski. Water rose to the edge of the boat, threatening to spill into the boat.

     “WOOOOOOO!” both versions of himself cheered as they passed under the overhang, the tip of their head nearly grazing the rock.

     The jet ski bounced on the waves like a prancing house as the younger Lance slowed the machine down. There was nothing but open waters ahead.

     Pidge whimpered and slumped against Lance. “I hate both of you.”

     Lance chuckled and ruffled Pidge’s hair. “Sorry, man. This was one of the greatest days of my life. I was able to start practicing my pilot skills.”

     Pidge huffed. “Gosh, no wonder you were such a bad pilot!” She gestured around them. “There’s a difference between flying in space and flying across the ocean!”

     Lance felt a sting of hurt at the bad pilot comment, but knew she didn’t really mean anything behind it. Still...

     _“I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out.”_

     Quiznak. He didn’t know Commander Iverson’s insult still bothered him.

     “Lance?” Pidged pressed softly. “You’re not a bad pilot...I only meant...”

     “Forget it, Pidge. It’s okay,” Lance assured. The last thing he needed was false lies meant to make him feel better from Pidge.

     “Lance, I wasn’t going to...”

     “Let’s go for a dip, eh?” Lance shoved Pidge out of the boat and jumped into the ocean after her.

     He whimpered as his butt landed on a roof and he nearly rolled off if Pidge hadn’t grabbed him.

     “I’m starting to get sick of the transitions between memories,” Lance grumbled.

     “Transitions? How many have you gone through?” Pidge asked as she helped pulled Lance up.

     Lance gave her a brief summary of his and Hunk’s journey.

     “So, Hunk’s okay,” Pidge said. She sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

     “Yeah, maybe you’ll be next,” Lance said. “I promise, you’ll get out of here.”

     Pidge stared at him. “You mean, _we’ll_ get out of here.”  
     Lance swallowed and took in his surroundings. He gasped as he saw the vivid red swirling streaks of light across the sparkling canvas of diamonds in the sky.

     “Whoa, aurora polaris,” Pidge muttered.

     “Northern lights,” Lance said. “There was an aurora storm visible from my house when I was...”

     “A cute and adorable eight year old? I thought I was a small kid!” Pidge laughed as she pointed out the young Lance sitting on the short balcony below them, outside of his bedroom window.

     “I didn’t really hit a growth spurt until I was fourteen,” Lance said.

     “Lancelot! What are you doing out there?”

     Lance’s heart stilled as he watched his Papa poke his head out the window.

     Young Lance grabbed Papa’s head and yanked it upward so that his father was looking at the sky.

     “LOOK!”

     Papa chuckled and freed his head from Young Lance’s hands. He sat out on the balcony next to him and winced as it creaked.

     “I may need to lay off those garlic knots,” Papa muttered.

     “I wished I had an X-wing,” Young Lance said. “Then I can fly it through those red streaks! It would be epic!”

     Papa chuckled. “And what will they call you up there?”

     Young Lance beamed. “Red Five.”

     “Ah, Luke’s callsign? I thought you were more of Han Solo fan.”

     Young Lance’s face fell and he wrapped his arms around his knees. He stared up at the sky.

     Papa narrowed his gaze in concern. “Lance?”

     Young Lance whispered softly that Lance could barely hear it from above, yet he remembered the words: “Sometimes, I feel more like Luke. I feel like space is calling me, I don’t know why, like there’s an adventure waiting for me out there, like there was for Luke.”

     A strange look crossed Papa’s features. A look Lance was never able to figure out. A teasing grin formed a few ticks later. “An adventure, huh? You think you’ll have adventures with a reckless hothead like Han, a courageous and stubborn Princess, a Wookie who looks huggable but can rip your arm out, a mentor who you look up to, a know-it-all droid, and a sharp-thinking little droid?”

     Lance bit back a laugh. What do you know? He did find his adventure out in space like Luke Skywalker.

     He found adventure with Keith, Allura, Hunk, Shiro, Coran, and...

     “I’M NOT R2D2!” Pidge yelled, smacking Lance upside the head.

     “Ow!” Lance cried out. He rubbed the sore spot on his head. “What the quiznak, Pidge?”

     Pidge crossed her arms and sat back, turning her head to the side.

     “Pidge, come on. R2 is the coolest character in Star Wars! He curses the whole time, but they censor him out.”

     Pidge chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re a Star Wars fan. I thought you would be more Star Trek.”

     “We’re a big family, we couldn’t exactly afford to splurge on movies. Besides, Papa was a huge Star Wars fan, well, a fan of the original trilogy anyway. I dunno. I grew up with it. I don’t want to say Star Wars was the reason I went to the Garrison, but it opened my mind to space.”

     Pidge grinned. “I get it. But, you’re the one telling Hunk that he’s like Chewie.”

     “Ah, looks like you’re a fan too.”

     “...Lancelot. You have to find it. Don’t let adventure find you. Often times, those are the most dangerous kind.”

     “Heh, your dad is pretty wise,” Pidge said. “He almost reminds me of...” She trailed off.

     “We’ll find your dad, Pidge. I promise,” Lance said. “I know...” He glanced down and gazed longingly at Papa. “I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

     Grief wrapped around his heart and the surroundings around them changed. Suddenly, the roof disappeared.

     Pidge and Lance fell to the hard floor with a heavy thud.

     “Urgh!” Pidge cried out, adjusting her glasses. “You’re right. Why does your mind hurt so much?”

     “Abuela! This is not the time nor place!”

     Lance stilled. _No._

He glanced up to see himself at fourteen-years-old...dressed in a black suit. Next to him, stood Mama, dressed in a simple black dress.

     And before them stood Abuela, she wore a black hat, which had a black veil covering her eyes.

     Anger boiled throughout Lance. He and his family had lost Papa, and Abuela made the whole funeral about _her._

     Abuela inspected Teenage Lance with disgust.

     “Um, Lance?” Pidge said, uneasily as she rose to her feet, watching the scene before her eyes with morbid curiosity.

     Lance joined her. “Look, Pidge...”

     “My son is dead. This is exactly the place,” Abuela said. “ _Boy,_ ” she snarled with disdain, _“_ look at me.”

     Teenage Lance raised his gaze to meet hers, chin quivering.

     _Smack!_

Pidge gasped.

     Teenager Lance’s chin smacked his shoulder, eyes glazed over as if he weren’t really there.

     “You leave at once,” Mama snapped.

     “Gladly. Your son is an abomination. He should be the one dead. Not my...” Abuela covered her mouth, swallowed, then lowered her hand. “Why couldn’t it have been you?” she sobbed before she turned on her heels and left.

     Mama cupped Teenage Lance’s cheeks. “Don’t you listen to her. It’s not true. I am so glad you are here. I love you so much, Lance.”

     She pulled him into a tight embrace, and finally Teenage Lance broke down in sobs.

     “Lance?” Pidge turned to him.

     Lance watched the scene, wished it were him back in his mother’s arms. He missed her hugs. Her reassuring advice. Her love.

     “That...ahem, was my Papa’s mother. She, uh, doesn’t really like me much.”

     “Well, she’s...she’s stupid,” Pidge said.

     Lance couldn’t stop the small half-smile tugging at the right corner of his lips. “Burn, Pidge.”

     “I’m sorry about your dad,” Pidge said.

     Lance felt a small hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, well, Abuela’s right. It should’ve been me.”

     “Should’ve. So why haven’t you made things right yet?”

     They spun on their heels toward Dark Lance, who leaned against the wall.

     “What are you talking about?” Pidge asked.

     Dark Lance scoffed. “Don’t be so naïve, Pidge. You’re the brains on this team. You know exactly what I meant. You know it as well as I do. Lance. Is. Expendable.”

     Those words, and Abuela’s words, cut at a wound in Lance’s heart that he thought had healed. It ripped the stitches and revealed the inner infected wound, still raw with pain and grief.

     Pain exploded through his right shoulder as Pidge decided to use her comforting hand to punch him.

     “OW!” Lance exclaimed. “Pidge?!”

     “How can you think that about yourself?” Pidge yelled. “You’re not expendable!”

     Lance blinked at that and found himself chuckling bitterly.

     “He doesn’t believe you,” Dark Lance sang out.

     Lance froze as he noticed the fresh tears slipping out underneath Pidge’s glasses. What the...were those tears for him?

     Pidge shoved him. “Why? How can you think that? You’re wrong!” Her eyes grew red and puffy. “You...I came back to Voltron because of you. I decided to join Voltron because of you!”

     “Wh-what? What are talking about? You joined Voltron because the Green Lion chose you.”

     She shook her head. “I meant...Back when I was...when all I wanted was to find my family. Nothing else mattered at the time. I was all set on leaving...and then...you got hurt.”

     Oh. The bomb. He’d shoved Coran out of the way because...

     “I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to make you leave your family...”

     “You idiot!” Pidge stomped her feet. “If you’d died, if we didn’t stop Sendak...” She sniffed. “At the Garrison, you always tried to include me in everything, even when I pushed you away. I kept pushing you, and you kept reaching out, looking out for me like...like a big brother and I realized...”

     She stormed forth and wrapped her arms around Lance.

     What was this? Pidge...cared about him?

     “Of course I do! I can’t lose you.”

     “Pidge...I...” Lance found himself hugging Pidge back. “I’m...”

     He jerked forward as his arms were no longer wrapped around anything. Where did...

     “Ha!” Coran’s victorious cheer echoed. His voice erased the sight of Mama and the other Lance.

     Dark Lance remained, with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “Hmm. Two down. Two remains. For a team who was so eager to stay behind for you, they’re sure leaving you without a second thought.”

     “Coran got them out, jerk,” Lance snarled.

     “Semantics.”

     Cruel laughter boomed around them. Sendak’s laughter.

     A cold breath trickled the back of Lance’s neck. He twisted his neck around for a quick glance behind him and...

     Lance squealed, stepping back as Sendak’s figure loomed over him.

     Sendak pulled back his left robot-arm, its claw spread open, ready to rip blood and bone from Lance’s body.

     Lance ducked the coming blow and scrambled across the floor.

     Arms gripped him tight from behind and pinned him against the wall. Dark Lance’s mouth leaned next to Lance’s ear. “Come on, you know how to beat me.”

     Lance struggled in his grip. “Get off,” he snarled.

     Dark Lance pulled him back and turned him around to face Sendak. “The bomb Sendak created was supposed to kill you. He knows that.” He lowered his voice to a cruel whisper. “And you know it.”

     Lance struggled in Dark Lance’s grip.

     “You were so prepared and ready to die in Balmera, when they had you and your comrades trapped. What did you say then?”

     _“This is it! We're going to die in here. I can say bye-bye to that parade."_

Embarrassment flooded up Lance’s neck. He’d forgotten about that.     

     Dark Lance cackled. “All one big joke. You were wrong on one thing. There will be a parade when you die.”

     Sendak smirked and flexed his claw.

     Lane stared him down. Why wasn’t he running? Why wasn’t he fighting? If he died in here, Shiro and Keith...

     Would they be trapped?

     But...no one was in danger right now.

     Except him...

     Fight.

     FIGHT HIM LANCE!

     “Na-na, na-na, boo-boo!” a voice sneered.

     Wait, that was his distraction line!

     Sendak lowered his robot appendage briefly in surprise before something slammed into his side. The Galra soldier flickered in and out before he disappeared.

     Keith stood before them, his bayard sword in hand.

     Lance stared at the weapon. How did Keith get his sword in here? How was it that he always made a cool entrance?

     Keith held out the tip of his sword toward Dark Lance, eyes smothering in fury. “Let go of Lance, _Pretty-Boy_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Pidge was SO HARD TO WRITE. I hope I did her justice. How did Keith show up? I feel like when Dark Lance brought up Balmera, Lance's mind would subconsciously also think of Keith because they fought a majority of their time together on that planet, and somehow his mind reached out for him. At least, that's what I feel.  
> And yes, from Lance's memory, here are the Paladins' Star Wars counterparts:  
> Lance: Luke Skywalker (I feel like at the very core of who they are, they are the same, despite Lance having more of Han's personality)  
> Shiro: Obi-Wan Kenobi  
> Ketih: Han  
> Hunk: Chewie  
> Allura: Leia  
> Coran: C3P0  
> Pidge: R2D2
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING. Kindly let me know what you think!  
> Here's a snippet of the next chapter:  
> Lance’s mouth worked, he sputtered out some strange noises before finally forming a coherent sentence: “What the quiznak? No! You are not swooping in here to rescue me like some damsel in distress. No, thank you, sir! I got this!”


	4. Bonding Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance's mind, Pidge and Hunk have been freed, and Keith swoops in to save Lance from being killed by his darker self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys ROCK. Your comments made me squeal and so happy. Thank you for the kudos, for reading, for supporting me, for sharing your thoughts with me, and just for being awesome okay? THANK YOU! Hope you enjoy! Up next: KEITH AND LANCE!!!! RIVALS! BICKERING. BANTERS. TEARS!!!! (Ahem, they are my favorite duos...I'm afraid I cannot contain my excitement on writing these two together)

_This was just a sad invention_

_It wasn't real, I know_

_But we were happy_

_I guess I couldn't let that go_

_I guess I couldn't give that up_

_I guess I wanted to believe_

_'Cause if I just believe_

_Then I don't have to see what's really there_

 

* * *

 

     Lance gawked at Keith standing before him, in his fabulous heroic glory.

     Lance’s mouth worked, he sputtered out some strange noises before finally forming a coherent sentence: “What the quiznak? No! You are not swooping in here to rescue me like some damsel in distress. No, thank you, sir! I got this!”

     He stomped on Dark Lance’s foot and elbowed his twisted self in the stomach.

     Dark Lance immediately released him and Lance spun to throw a punch at him for good measure. He swiped nothing but air.

     Keith lowered his sword and scoffed at Lance. “Right. You’ve got this. You were handling everything perfectly fine before I arrived.”

     “That’s right!” Lance huffed, crossing his arms.

     Keith shook his head and scanned his surroundings. “Where are we? Where are the others?”

     “Coran got Hunk and Pidge out. Shiro...I’m not exactly sure.”

     “We should find him,” Keith said. “We need to stick together.”

     Lance felt his eyes bulging out. “Is this advice coming from the guy who abandons his team to go all kamikaze on Galra soldiers?”

     “Your mind isn’t exactly the safest place to be right now,” Keith snapped back.

     _Pew-pew!_

     Keith shoved Lance out of the way of blue laser beams.

     Dark Lance waved his dark-blue bayard gun at them. “Your bickering is going to get you both killed someday. You of all people, Lance, should know better.”

     Air whooshed out of his lungs. Lance glowered. “Oh, you pompous...”

     Dark Lance cut off their words with another shot that barely grazed Lance’s shoulder.

     Lance dragged Keith by the collar. “Come on!”

     He roughly guided Keith out the door heading down...

     Where the heck was the pew?

     A roar of cheer erupted from a crowd. They moved from the under the row of bleachers and Lance took in a sharp breath when he saw the swimming pool. Which one of his races was it?

     He glanced up at the scoreboard, trying to find any semblance of a clue that would help pinpoint this memory. His heart squeezed as he honed in on the event name:

     _100 metres Freestyle Olympic Tryouts_.

     He was not going to relieve this shit.

     “Let’s go, Keith,” Lance said, rushing down toward the gym’s exit.

     Keith was giving him a weird look before he hesitantly followed after him.

     As they reached the doors, the exit vanished, replaced by a thick black wall.

     They stumbled back. The entire gym was encased in a black dome, blocking all exits.

     “This never happened before,” Lance muttered.

     Keith slashed his sword across the wall. The blade broke and his bayard flickered out of existence from his hand.

     “Damn it,” Keith said.

     _“Let’s hear it for our swimmers, all of them competing for a spot for the Olympics tryouts. Whoever wins first place in this match-up will win an opportunity to try out for a spot in the Olympics.”_

The crowd roared again.

     Keith narrowed his gaze as he caught something of interest. “You...competed to be an Olympic swimmer?”

     “What?” Lance wheezed. “Psha, I watching this from the...” His lies died out as he saw his thirteen-year-old self standing at the edge of the pool in Lane 7.

     “You were saying?” Keith said. He chuckled. “Nice blue speedos.”

     Lance glared at him. He moved his gaze over to the empty spot in Lane 9. “There’s nothing special to watch here.”

     Dark Lance poked his head in between them. “Oh. I think there is.” He flashed a cruel smile as if to emphasize his point.

     Keith reached out for Dark Lance.

     In a blink, both he and Keith were sitting on the bleachers, front and center, getting the best seat in the gym.

     Lance quickly went to stand up but black tentacles wrapped around his ankles and wrists, keeping him in place.

     “What the quiznak?” Lance exclaimed.

     Keith tested his own binds and shared a look at Lance.

     How was Dark Lance getting more powerful? Before with Hunk and Pidge, they were able to run through Lance’s memories with no problem.

     “Isn’t it obvious?” Dark Lance said. He sat behind them, with a bowl of popcorn. “The more you fight a memory, the more control I have over you.” He shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

     “Lance, it’s only a memory,” Keith said. “It’s not going to hurt you. The bastard behind us on the other hand...”

     “I don’t want you to see this,” Lance said. “Close your eyes.”

     Keith reeled his head back, hurt crossing his features. “I...”

     “Shh...” Dark Lance ordered with a silencing finger to the lips.

     Both Lance and Keith’s mouth clamped shut by an invisible force.

     “Watch,” Dark Lance hissed.

     Lance watched as the announcer stood near the corner of the pool, gathering the audience’s attention.

     “Swimmers, take your positions!”

     Teenager Lance got up onto the diving board, and bend over, pressing his hands near the top.

     A woman rushed toward the announcer, handing him a piece of paper and whispering something into the man’s ears. The announcer’s eyes-brows shot up. “Oh, looks like we’ve got a late arrival. But it’s been cleared by the committee. Since we had a swimmer drop out this morning, we’ve found a last minute replacement.”

     Teenage Lance turned his head toward the newcomer emerging from the locker rooms. His determined face immediately fell.

     His year older brother Javier strolled toward Lane 9, refusing to meet Lance’s gaze.

     Lance’s heart twisted at the sight.

     Dark Lance leaned forward toward Keith. “That’s Javier. Our older brother. He had slacked off on swimming this year.” Dark Lance smacked Lance’s arm. “But not us, we trained hard, didn’t we, Lance? Up before the crack of dawn. Two hours after school. We were always swimming. Weren’t we?”

     Lance found himself trembling, and any insults he wanted to sprout out to his other self was trapped behind his closed mouth.

     “We were sooooooo surprised to see him there, weren’t we?” Dark Lance said. “How long have we lived in Javier’s shadows, huh?” He jerked upward. “Oh, here we go!”

     The announcer fired the gun, and the ten swimmers dived into their respective lanes.

     Teenage Lance was immediately in the lead, everyone else at least five strokes behind. He flipped turn under the water as he neared the end of the pool and headed back to his original starting position.

     Javier was gaining speed.

     At the start of the second lap, both Javier and Teenage Lance did a quick somersault under the water, coming up, racing neck-to-neck.

     Both flip turned at the same time.

     “Dios mio!” Dark Lance cried out. “The suspense is killing me!”

     Javier and Teenage Lance edged closer and closer for the finish. Both reached out a hand to touch the back wall.

     On the scoreboard, the final results flashed across the screen:

     _Lane 9: 59.3_

_Lane 7: 59.6_

 

     A sharp cheer cut through all the others. “Vamos, Javier! Yes! That’s my grandson!”

     Lance flinched at Abuela’s celebratory yells.

     Dark Lance leaned toward Keith. “You want to know why Lance views you as a rival so much?”

     _Don’t tell him._

     Javier got out of the pool, with no smiles. He waved at the crowd, like this was all a walk in the park.

     Teenager Lance climbed out, chest heaving.

     The announcer strolled over and raised Javier’s arm up. “First place winner, and automatic bid to the Olympic tryouts!”

     Claps sounded from behind him, and Lance could hear the cheers from the rest of his family.

     “Because like Javier, you are everything he’s not,” Dark Lance said to Keith.

     _Shut up._

Lance tugged at his binds, struggled against them. Fought to open his mouth and yell at his darker self to shut up.

     Dark Lance continued to whisper into Keith’s ears: “You’re the better pilot, the better fighter, more respected, more courageous. He lived in Javier’s shadows his whole life. And when he went to the Garrison, he had to live in yours.”

     Keith snapped his gaze toward Lance, a strange foreign emotion filled his eyes.

     Lance didn’t try to decipher the hidden meaning within them.

     “Want to see want happened in the locker room?”

     Dark Lance snapped his fingers. Keith and Lance remained seated but their surroundings changed.

     They were now sitting on a bench in the locker room. Javier had changed out of his uniform, and wore gym shorts.

     Teenage Lance slammed Javier’s locker shut in front of him. “So, when were you going to tell me you were racing?”

     “Abuela didn’t want me to say anything. She was afraid to through you off your game.”  
     “Off my game? Que diablos?! We’re brothers, man. You said you were done with swimming.”

     “Yeah, well, I found out I still liked it.”

     “What? Were you training in secret or something?” Teenage Lance yelled.

     Javier scoffed. “I haven’t trained in like months.”

     Lance felt the sucker-punch of Javier’s words, his stomach twisting in knots.

     Teenager Lance stepped back, hurt. He shook it from his features and forced a strained smile. “That’s right. I forgot. Everything comes easy to you, does it?”

     “There’s our champion!” Abuela exclaimed as she strolled into the locker room. “What’s taking you so long?”

     The rest of Lance’s family filed in: Papa, Mama, Abue, Uncle Rio, Aunt Natalia who carried her twin two-year-olds on each hip, Uncle Gustavo, Marisoa, and his cousin Alondra and Sandra.

     Teenage Lance stepped back as they swarmed toward Javier.

     “I can’t believe you’re going to the Olympic tryouts,” Marisoa exclaimed.

     “Congrats, my boy,” Uncle Gustavo said. “You’re an elite swimmer.”

     Teenage Lance stepped back some more, until Papa caught sight of him.

     “Lancelot, you did great!” Papa said. “You...”

     Teenage Lance slipped away from his father’s embrace and rushed out of the locker room.

     Papa watched his exit, sadly. He turned his gaze to Abuela, and fury set into his features.

     “Where did Lancey-Lance go?” Fiona, one of Lance’s nieces, cried out.

     Lance watched Papa, his heart yearning for him again. Was one of his last heart-to-heart conversation with Papa after this event? It was...Papa had found him...

     Keith and Lance cried out as they fell back from the bleachers, and landed on their backs on...

     ...the sand?

     Lance slowly rose to a sitting position, watching the waves touch the sandy shore.

     “Lance?” Keith pressed softly.

     Lance squeezed his eyes shut. There it was... _pity._

     “No,” Keith said. “Look at me, Lance...”

     “Don’t, Keith. I don’t want to hear it. Especially from you.”

     Keith huffed. “What does that mean? Especially from me? What’s your problem? I thought we were becoming good teammates!”

     “Yeah,” Lance said, raising to his feet. He brushed himself off. “Teammates. Not friends.”

     Keith flinched as if Lance had slapped him. “Oh.”

     Lance couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have Keith feel pity for him. That’s not how he wanted to be friends with him. He never hated him. He just hated how Keith was always better than him at everything, just like Javier was. Always in the shadows of someone better.

     Quiznak. He wanted to be friends with Keith. They kicked butt together.

     But...

     Would he never be his own person?

     “Are you going to sit here all day, throwing yourself a pity party?”

     Keith and Lance turned toward the heartwarming scene.

     Papa approached a sitting Teenage Lance who was dressed in baggy gym pants and jacket. The wind off the ocean rustled through Teenage Lance’s hair, and he fisted sand in his palm as he kept his gaze on the waters instead of acknowledging Papa’s arrival.

     Papa took a seat next to him, and waited.

     Several beats later, Teenage Lance tossed the sand from his right at the waves. “It’s not fair, Papa! I worked hard! I’m the one that’s supposed to go! I’m the one who’s supposed to be the youngest kid to go to the Olympics! He doesn’t even care about IT! He stops swimming for months and HE GETS TO GO?”

     Papa draped his arm across Teenage Lance’s shoulder. “I know. It’s not fair.”

     Teenage Lance sniffled and wiped at his nose. “I...It was supposed to be my moment. My chance to shine. I...” This time, he wiped at the coming tears.

     Papa sighed and squeezed Teenage Lance’s shoulder. “Is swimming what you really want to do?”

     “I love swimming!” Teenage Lance yelled, aghast.

     “That’s not what I asked,” Papa said. “Is it calling you, Lancelot? Is it an adventure you truly wish to take?”

     “I only...I wanted to go to the Olympics. I wanted...I wanted to be somebody, Papa!”

     “Be somebody?” Papa shook his head. “Lance, that is not a calling you should answer.”

     “What would you know, huh? People know you!” Teenage Lance cried. “To everybody else, I’m Marisoa’s younger brother. I’m Javier’s younger brother. They get mad when I don’t live up to them. And...I just want to be Lance! I want people to look at me and go, oh, that’s Lance. Lance is pretty cool. Why can’t you be more like Lance?”

     “I see you, Lance. You are a hard worker. You love to swim, and you enjoy the waters. But, I know, that is it not in your heart.”

     “My heart?”

     “I’ve seen you charting the stars. I’ve seen you reading those books on space and piloting ships. I’ve seen you sitting in your Uncle Gustavo’s boat, eyes closed and turning the wheel. You told me once, that you felt space calling you.”

     Teenager Lance glanced down at his knees and wrapped his arms around it.

     “If you strive to be somebody, you will always be nobody. If you strive to follow your heart, I promise you, you will be Lance, and that is the greatest person you can be.”

     Papa ruffled his hands through Teenage Lance’s hair.

     Lance smiled. He’d...forgotten about that. That talk. He briefly remembered the moment, but not the words. It opened something in him, an emotion he rarely felt about himself: pride.

     The ocean waters turned black, like the night sky and a strong wave whooshed over Papa and Teenage Lance.

     Lance and Keith stumbled back as the waters splashed and rose around their knees.

     “That’s not the memory I want you to see,” Dark Lance’s voice boomed around them.

     Both of them waded through the waters, stepping across the heavy sand for land. The water level continued to rise. Lightening flashed across the sky.

     “..ance? Can you hear me? Keith? Lance!”

     Lance perked up at the voice. “Coran! Can you help get us out of here?”

     “I’ve figured it out, my boy. You need to hug Keith, and I’ll be able to extract him from your mind,” Coran said.

     “Hug him? He’ll probably stab me because he thinks I’m attacking him!” Lance exclaimed.

     Keith glowered. “I’m right here.”

     The water level rose to their hip.

     Ugh. Hug his rival. Okay. He could do this. Simple. “Please don’t kill me!” Lance cried out as he lunged through the water, his arms outstretched for Keith.

     “Oh no you don’t!” Keith yelled, roughly shoving Lance to the side.

     Lance slipped underwater and stood back up, inhaling the fresh air and coughing out the water that got into his lungs at the same time. “I’m trying to rescue you!”

     “I’m not leaving you!” Keith snapped. “Do you think I’m the type to abandon my friends?”

     Lance froze at that. “Wh-what?”

     Keith’s cheeks flushed red. “We should get out of here. I don’t know how to swim...”

     “Right,” Lance said.

     They both waded for the shore, rushing as fast as they could which was at the agonizing speed of a tortoise. The wind howled behind them, and Lance stole a glance over his shoulder. A huge wall of a wave swirled for them, at a rapid pace.

     Lance gasped. This was it. They were going to die.

     “Lance, we’re your mind! GET US OUT OF HERE!” Keith screamed.

     Right. A memory. Think of anything. Anything besides the quiznak of a wave about to wipe them out. Anything besides Keith screaming in his ears. Teammates. Friends...

     The waves disappeared and they were back at the main crystal core room of the Castle.

     Lance took a step back in shock as he saw the purple Galra crystal. He watched as Past Keith fought against Sendak.

     “Keith! NOW!” Past Allura screamed.

     Past Keith kicked Sendak back and a shield separated Sendak from the others. With no hesitation, Past Keith rushed over to the Injured Lance, gripping his hand to aid Injured Lance into a sitting position and using his other arm to support Injured Lance.

     “We did it,” Injured Lance said, with a genuine smile. “We’re a good team.”

     Past Keith smiled softly back.

     The moment didn’t last long as Injured Lance groaned and sagged forward.

     Past Allura rushed toward them. “We should get Lance to the cyro-pods. I don’t know how far out Coran and Hunk are with the Balmera crystal, but we should get him prepped and ready for healing.”

     Keith nodded. “Lance, come on, I can’t carry you by myself.”

     “I’m not that...heavy...buddy...” Injured Lance muttered.

     Past Keith shook his head with amusement, before he adjusted his arms and lifted Lance up, carrying him bridal-style.

     Keith pointed a finger at the scene. “I knew you remembered!”

     Lance folded his arms across his chest and turned his head to the side. “We will never speak of this.”

     “Do you really hate me that much?” Keith said, hurt filtering throughout his voice. “Are you ashamed that I think of you as a friend?”

     What? Lance blinked as he looked back. “Why? Why do you?”  
     This time, Keith turned his chin to the side, a furious pout on his features. An emotion flickered across his face and Keith’s expression softened. He hesitantly glanced back. “Because...you’re...you’re Lance.”

     _If you strive to follow your heart, I promise you, you will be Lance, and that is the greatest person you can be._

      The scene flickered and faded to black as Injured Lance lost all consciousness.

     Lance glanced over at Keith and scratched his cheek. Should he be honest? Should he at least clear the air between them? A fart in this situation wouldn’t do good. Not that Lance was sure he could fart in his mind.

     “Look, Keith...”

     A laser beam shot between them and Keith cried out in pain as it grazed his shoulder. He clamped a hand over it and blood squeezed between the cracks of his fingers.

     Lance spun toward Dark Lance who waved his bayard rifle at them.

     “You’re starting to get a bit predictable, Lance,” Dark Lance said.

     Lance moved and took a protective stance in front of Keith. “Your fight is with me. Leave him out of this.”

     “He’s your rival. Why do you care?”

     Lance thought of his hugs with Hunk and Pidge, the bonding moment where they told Lance the truth of what they thought of him, when they allowed their true emotions forth. Maybe that was the key to getting out of here. Being honest. Keith... had a hard time expressing his emotions. He would only show it in bits and pieces. He had a good wall, like Lance.

     Maybe it was Lance’s turn to be honest.

     “Keith,” Lance said, keeping his gaze locked on Dark Lance. “I lied. I want to be your friend. It’s just...easier to pretend I hate you, because, then I don’t have to realize that it’s really myself that I hate.”

     Lance turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at a shocked Keith.

     “I envied you. I...grew bitter of you because everyone at the Garrison always said I wouldn’t be a fighter pilot if you hadn’t dropped out. Like...it just reminded me too much of what Javier and Abuela said to me, you know? It’s not an excuse. But...”

     “I...think I get it,” Keith said.

     Lance smiled. “You’re Keith, man. I’m honored to call you, my friend. I promise, I’ll start being friend you deserve.”

     Keith widened his eyes. He shook his head in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe Lance’s words.

     “I got you, buddy,” Lance said.

     “What are you doing?” Keith said, suspicion lining his voice.

     Lance grinned. “Creating another bonding moment.”

     He rushed forward and pulled Keith into a hug, a hug that his mother would usually give him, a hug that proved that Lance truly did care about Keith.

     “Lance!” Keith tried to pry free from Lance.

     “Hey man, if I don’t get out of this, kick some Galra ass for me, okay?”

     “LANCE, NO!”

     Keith’s cries still echoed in Lance’s ears after he vanished. It tugged at Lance’s heartstrings, but he reassured himself that it was the right thing.

     Lance lowered his arms and turned toward Dark Lance, with the best glare he could muster up.

     “How pathetic,” Dark Lance said. “You treat him like crap this entire time, only to now reveal that you wished to be buds with him. You’re so pitiable.”

     “Say whatever you want. I won’t let you hurt my friends,” Lance snarled.

     Dark Lance threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, you idiot. It’s never been about your friends.” He leveled his gun onto Lance. “It’s always been about you.”

     Lance braced himself, waiting for the shot.

     Dark Lance continued. “Since you’ve been in your mind, all you’ve been doing is running. It was nice to see you finally take a stand, and for Keith of all people. Too bad it’s too late.”

     Instincts told Lance to move, and Lance scampered out of the way in time as a laser beam whizzed by him.

     “You’re right,” Lance said. “All I ever do is run.”

     What would Keith do?

     Lance grinned.

     Run recklessly into the face of danger.

     He closed his eyes and thought of the cliffs, the dark stormy night, the cries and screams, and...

     “Lance?”

     Lance shot open his eyes and stared into the bewildered expression of Shiro.

     Shiro sighed, his features turning into a soft one. “You ready?”

     Lance glanced around and realized that he was back in the Core Room, in front of the shack. He furrowed his brows.

     “You never left?” he asked.

     “Something told me not to go through the door,” Shiro said. “I’ve learned to listen to my instincts. I have a feeling you’re supposed to be heading over there.”

     Shiro stretched out his left arm and pointed at the cliff overlooking the black waves in Lance’s core room.

     Lance’s heart began to thump hard in his chest. He swallowed a lump. Be like Keith, just go forth without another thought.

     Shiro smiled. “There’s no rush, Lance. Whenever you’re ready.”

     “How long had you’ve been waiting out here for?”

     “Long enough to know the others are safe,” Shiro said. “I was able to keep in contact with Coran and All...”

     “Lance! You jerk! I’m going to kick your ass when you get out of this!” Keith’s voice boomed throughout the core room.

     Lance laughed. “Yeah, not if I kick your ass first!” he shouted back.

     Shiro covered his laugh with his hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.

     Lance redirected his attention to the cliff and inhaled a shaky breath. “Listen, Shiro, what you’re about to see...might change your perception of me. I understand if...if I can no longer be part of Voltron.”

     Shiro reached out and gripped Lance’s left shoulder. He gave a reassuring squeeze and it reminded Lance of his Papa. “Lance, there are things in my past that I don’t remember. Things I’ve done that I wished I hadn’t. I think, I’m running away from them, maybe that’s why I suppress them.” He squeezed Lance’s shoulder again. “Nothing good comes from running. Maybe you need to relieve this. Maybe you need to face this, because maybe there’s something that happened that you need to know.”

     Dios mio. Why did all of Shiro’s advices have valid points to them? His leader was right. Nothing good came from running. Lance had to face the worst of himself.

     “Okay.” He squared his shoulders back. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS HAD TO HAVE BEEN MY MOST FAVORITE CHAPTER TO WRITE. I love writing banters and characters bickering and being friends, and urgh, Keith and Lance, you guys kill me! <3 Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! I think we may have one or two chapters left until the end. Thank you for sticking this story out. Thank you for all your reviews and comments. They all make my heart warm and fuzzy inside.


	5. Waves of Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With help from Shiro, Lance faces one of his worst memories: the tragic death of his Papa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments, sweet reviews, and kudos. You are all helping build my confidence as a writer, and I love my readers. Each and every one of you. Thank you. I hope you enjoy this tear-jerker of a chapter. It was so emotional for me to write this. <3 *sobs* My poor LANCE!

_No, I'd rather pretend I'm something better than_

_These broken parts_

_Pretend I'm something other than_

_This mess that I am_

_'Cause then I don't have to look at it_

_And no one gets to look at it_

_No, no one can really see_

* * *

     “Are you sure you’re ready?” Shiro pressed softly.

     Lance hadn’t moved from the steps. He stared at the cliffs, his shoulders shaking. “I...I am...I just, can’t move.”

     His eyes stung, and Lance wiped at the tears that were already forming. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault, Shiro.”

     Shiro’s mouth worked, lines of confliction formed on his forehead. He closed his mouth and squeezed Lance’s shoulder again in reassurance.

     Lance appreciated that Shiro didn’t offer up false condolences. It wasn’t what Lance needed.

     “He was...the best papa ever. I...he...Abue always talked about how everyone in the world had that one special person, you know? The person that understands you better than you understood yourself. The person who saw the best in you, who saw the worst, and still saw someone worthy...” Lance dropped his hands and gave up trying to stop the coming tears. “Papa was mine. He...” Lance sniffed his nose. “I miss him.”

     Shiro pulled Lance into a hug. “I know you do.”

     “Why? It’s not fair. Why do I have to see this again? Why do I have to face it?”

     “I don’t know, Lance. But if you’re not ready...then... we’ll wait. We’ll wait until you are.”

     “Even if it takes years?” Lance cried out, burrowing his face into Shiro’s shoulder.

     “Even if it takes years, plus one,” Shiro said.

     Lance chuckled. “Of course. Our fearless leader is secretly a five-year-old dork.”

     He pulled back and wiped at his tears, the small laughter already slightly lifting the heaviness in his chest. He inhaled a shaky breath, and tried to steady his hands.

     “Okay. Okay.” Lance took in a few more breaths.

     “I’ll be right by your side,” Shiro said.

     Lance gave a nod of thanks, unable to summon any words as his chest was racking up with various heavy emotions. He walked down the steps, and Shiro followed behind Lance, like...a right-hand man would follow a leader.

     It didn’t feel right for Shiro to be following him like that, but Lance had to emulate Shiro’s leadership. He had to see the truth of himself.

     The wind picked up as they neared the cliff. Lance desperately wanted to grab onto something to ensure he didn’t get blown away, but there was nothing to grab.

     The black waves smacked against the cliff and splashed near Lance’s feet.

     “Okay,” Lance said. He inhaled a deep breath. “Okay.”

     He leaped off the cliff and into the dark waters below.

     He tumbled on the ground, rolling to a stop on his knees.

     Shiro was immediately behind him, and laid a supporting hand on his upper back as they both steadied themselves.

     Lance glanced up and saw dark storm clouds in the distance.

     “Last one back to the house is rotten egg!”

     Lance turned and saw his fourteen-year-old self, dressed in a swim-trunk, surrounded by his two-year-old twin niece and nephew.

     His cousin, Sandra, shoved Lance and laughed as she scooped up the twins and rushed for the house.

     “Hey! Why do I have to clean this up?” Teenage Lance cried out, pointing to the beach toys in the sandbox.

     “Because you’re the youngest!” Sandra called back as she disappeared into the house.

     “No I’m not! They are! They should clean it!”

     Sandra only cackled from the distance.

     Teenage Lance chuckled softly before bending down and started to pick up the toys.

     Shiro turned to Lance, about to question something.

     Lance’s heart thumped and he nodded. “It’s the day...”

     A giggle erupted from their left. Lance and Shiro watched as Javier strolled across the backyard, showing off the bronze medal that he won at the Olympics to a teenage girl the same age as him.

     Teenage Lance caught sight of them and mimicked gagging as he continued to pick up the toys.

     “Wow. You are so amazing, Javier,” the girl cooed.

     Teenage Lance rolled his eyes.

     “Oh! Who is this handsome fellow?” she asked as they came upon Teenage Lance.

     “My younger brother. He had a shot at the Olympics too,” Javier said. “He was very close.”

     “Close to murdering your ass,” Teenage Lance muttered under his breath. He tossed the toys back into the sandbox, clearly no longer wishing to be near them.

     “What was that, Lance?” Javier called out.

     Teenage Lance turned around and forced a smile. “Just talking to myself.”

     “Sure,” Javier said.

     “Can I see it?” the girl asked.

     Javier smirked, a bit too wide as if he were showing off to Teenage Lance. He wiped the medal off and showed the girl.

     “Wow. It’s a bit darker than most gold medals I’ve seen,” she said.

     Teenage Lance scoffed. “It’s because it’s bronze. He came in third place.”

     “Lance!” Javier snapped. “Don’t listen to him. He’s bitter.”

     “I wouldn’t listen to Javier,” Teenage Lance said. “He carries around a behemoth of an ego. I don’t think he’s aware of the lies that sprout out of his mouth.”

     Javier’s expression grew dark. “You should talk.”

     The girl glanced between the two of them, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh, I’m...” She handed Javier the medal back. “I’ll be going...see you...yeah.”

     She promptly left.

     Javier turned and shoved Lance. “What the heck, man? Why do you always have to do that?”

     “Expose you for who you really are?” Teenage Lance questioned. “I’m the younger brother, it’s my job.”

     Javier huffed, flicking his gaze across Teenage Lance as if he were a disease. “Abuela was right. You want to be me. You did swimming so you could outdo me. You flirt badly with girls because they like me better. I bet you take my medal and you flaunt it around town.”

     “Seriously? Is that what you really think of me? How screwed up in the head are you?”

     “Not as screwed up as you!”

     “Shut up!” Teenage Lance tackled Javier and they began to wrestle in the sandbox, pulling their hair, punching and grappling for each other’s arms and legs.

     Lance swallowed. The insecurities and shame flushed up his neck as he realized that Shiro was watching. Did he have to see what happens next?

     Teenage Lance stumbled out of the sandbox, blood slipping down his nose. He held up Javier’s medal.

     “Give that back!” Javier snarled, leaping to his feet.

     Teenage Lance stepped back. “This stupid thing?”

     “Lance!”

     Teenage Lance smirked. “How bad do you want it?”

     He rushed off, disappearing into the woodlands behind their home.

     “LANCE!” Javier boomed, a promise of murder in his voice.

     Shiro and Lance didn’t have to move. In a blink, they were suddenly standing at the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping about and making a nasty sound.

     Teenage Lance stormed through the clearing, with Javier hot on his heels. He held the medal over the edge of the cliff, dangling over the pointy rocks and smacking waves below.

     Javier slowed and held up his hands. “Lance. Don’t do this.”

     “You’re wrong. I don’t want to flaunt this stupid medal. It doesn’t mean anything, Javier. You were a nobody without a medal. You’re a nobody with one!”

     “Damn it, Lance!”

     Javier lunged for him and gripped Teenage Lance’s wrist. In the ensuring struggle, they both watched in horror as the medal fell into the waters below.

     “You ass!” Javier punched Teenage Lance in the shoulder and glanced down. He scanned the waters below, no doubt looking for a place to dive.

     Teenage Lance pulled him back. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to kill yourself over that!”

     “It’s proof of the best thing that happened to me, Lance! You wouldn’t get it.”

     “Javier, don’t!”

     A billowing wave smacked against the top of the cliff, and Javier shouted as he slipped and tumbled off...

     Teenage Lance caught him, water dripping from his body. His other arm wrapped around a boulder near the edge.

     “Don’t let go!” Javier screamed.

     “Wasn’t planning on it!” Teenage Lance shout back. “Damn, you’re heavy.”

     His grip on Javier slipped.

     Lightning flashed and thunder cracked like a whip around them.

     Lance stepped back, his breathing becoming erratic.

     Shiro caught sight of this. “Lance...”

     Teenage Lance glanced about, his arm around the boulder was slipping loose. He locked eyes with Javier. “Thank me for working out.”

     Javier’s brows burrowed. “What are...”

     He screamed as Teenage Lance yanked Javier up toward safety with his right arm. Yet the movement caused Teenage Lance to lose momentum, and he went tumbling off the cliff.

     Javier scrambled up and peered over with a scream: “LANCE!”

     He immediately shot to his feet. His eyes searching below. “Lance!” He spun on his heels and rushed back for the house. “PAPA! PAPA!”

     Lightning flashed, and the air vibrated with an intense _boom._

     The ground beneath Lance and Shiro disappeared. They fell on their butts on the sandy shores below the cliff. They watched in horror as Teenage Lance struggled to swim against the mighty waves.

     “It’s a miracle you didn’t hit those rocks,” Shiro said.

     Lance winced.

     “Lance?” Shiro pressed.

     “LANCE!”

     They glanced up to see Papa poking his head over the edge of the cliff above. Javier and Sandra were next to him.

     Papa shouted something to them that was lost in the roar of the waves and wind.

     Lightning flashed and cracked again.

     Sandra nodded her head and disappeared from the edge of the cliff.

     “I...” Lance shook his head. “Shiro...”

     A wave caught Teenage Lance and smacked his body against one of the smaller rock pillars.

     Lance grabbed his chest as he felt the familiar agony of pain smack against him.

     Teenage Lance never resurfaced.

     “LANCE!” Papa screamed again.

     Without a second hesitation, he dove for the dangerous waters below. His body went under the waters and came back up, his head spinning about and searching for Teenage Lance.

     Lance released a pathetic whimper from his lips.

     Shiro glanced over and stepped next to Lance, their shoulders brushing.

     “I’m sorry you have to see this again, Lance.”

     Lance whined.

     The waves picked up their fury, and Papa kept sinking and struggling against each one. One smacked him hard against the same pillar as Teenage Lance. And suddenly, Papa slipped underneath the waters.

     “PAPA!” Javier screamed from above. His face disappeared from the edge of the cliff, no doubt running for additional help.

     Several beats past, Lance’s heart pounded and pounded with each dragging second.

     Papa’s upper body emerged from the surface of the water, near the shores that Lance and Shiro stood upon. He grunted and cried in pain. He brought his arms up, and Teenage Lance broke through the surface, slacked and heavy.

     “La-aance,” Papa cried out. He struggled to swim them both toward the surface.

     The wind seemed for once to be on their side, and a several waves carried them to the sandy beach.

     Papa laid Teenage Lance onto his back on the sand.

     Blood pooled around them that it was difficult to see who it was coming from. He pressed his ear against Lance’s mouth and nose, then his chest.

     “No. No.” Papa’s face was stricken, he gripped Lance’s shoulder and cried. “Lance, my boy! No!”

     He tilted his son’s head back and began doing compressions. He release a shout of pain and gripped his hands around his left thigh. Blood oozed and poured out of a nasty wound.

     Papa huffed out a breath and a wave splashed around them, erasing the blood. Even as the waters removed the evidence, it couldn’t stop the blood from pouring out of Papa’s thigh. He moved his gaze toward Teenage Lance. Determination filled his eyes. “You’re not dying on me, son.”

     He continued to do compressions.

     “You are going to live. You hear me? You’re going to live, and you’re going to be a pilot, and you’re going to do great things!”

     He pushed and pushed on Lance’s chest. Grunts and small agonized cries of pain slipped through.

     “You’re...urgh...you’re going to live! You’re going to make close friends. You’re going to...URGH...fall in love. You’re going to have your heart broken, you’re...AHHHH!!”

     Papa wheezed and went to grip his leg once more. He shook his head and continued doing compressions.

     “You’re going to have your heart fixed...you’re...you’re going to die old and with a smile on your face, YOU hear ME?”

     Papa cried out in agonized pain and bowed his head toward Teenage Lance’s chest.

     Lance whimpered and reached out for Shiro.

     Shiro pulled Lance into a tight embrace.

     “Lance!” Papa yelled. “Please! Lance! You’re...you’re going to LIVE!”

     Lance buried his face into Shiro’s chest, and a wretched sob escaped his throat.

     He could hear his Papa pick up and continue the compressions, with grunts and cries.

     Fifteen minutes.

     That’s how long his papa did compressions for.

     Fifteen minutes.

     Thunder boomed and rumbled.

     Fifteen minutes.

     He kept the blood circulating in Lance’s heart, while the blood continued to pump drastically out of the wound in his thigh.

     “La-lance...” Papa murmured.

     Lance sobbed. “Why? Why did he save me, Shiro?”

     Shiro stiffened in Lance’s embrace.

     “Why didn’t he save himself? If he just put some kind of tourniquet around his thigh, if he didn’t push himself so hard to save a worthless stupid son...WHY?”

     “Oh...oh, Lance,” Shiro said.

     The thunder immediately ceased, and the roar of the waves and wind no longer sounded.

     Lance stepped back from Shiro and glanced around.

     Teenage Lance sat upright in the hospital bed, eyes red and rimmed with tears. A breathing mask was attached to his mouth and nose, and he was hooked up to an IV drip. He stared out the window and the rain streaking down the glass.

     Javier walked into the room, still dressed in the same outfit. His hair was disheveled. “Lance?”

     Teenage Lance kept staring out the window.

     “They...want to know if you want to come say goodbye to Papa before they take his...” Javier’s voice hitched and he swallowed a lump.

     Teenage Lance shook his head.

     “You should go say goodbye to him!”

     Teenage Lance bunched up the sheets of the hospital bed in his hand. “Why...why did you go get him?” He glanced up at his brother. “Why did you go back to the house to get him?”

     “No, you don’t!” Javier exclaimed, strolling further into the room. He jutted out a forefinger. “You don’t get to turn this on me! If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you!”

     Teenage Lance flinched hard at those words. His knuckles turned white.

     Javier sniffled and wiped at his nose. “Damn it, Lance.” He promptly left it at that.

     Teenage Lance slowly raised his gaze to the doorway and lowered his head into his hands and sobbed.

     “It’s not your fault,” Shiro immediately said, turning onto Lance.

     Lance swallowed a lump. “Weren’t we watching the same thing? If I hadn’t fought with my brother, if I hadn’t thrown that stupid medal into the ocean...”

     “Lance.” Shiro reached out and grabbed both of Lance’s shoulder. He leveled his gaze to meet Lance’s. “You fell into the ocean saving your brother. You knew that and were willing to sacrifice yourself to save him.”

     Lance blinked several times. “Well, yeah, his life is worth...”

     “Your dad,” Shiro interrupted. “Your dad knew what he was doing. He was willing sacrifice himself to save you.”

     “Bu-but why?” Lance cried out. “That’s what I don’t get! I’m not worth saving, Shiro! My papa threw his life away for nothing!”

     Shiro straightened himself up. “Is that what you truly think?” He stroked his chin and then crossed his arms. “What if your father never came? You would’ve died, protecting your brother. How do you think Javier would’ve felt?”

     Lance seemed to shrink back. “Relieved.”

     Shiro’s eyes widened. “Why do you think so little of yourself?” He shook his head. “How do you think your dad would feel if you had died? Do you think he would not feel the pain you’re feeling right now?”

     “Shiro...I...” Why was Shiro pressing this? He didn’t understand why his leader kept throwing him all these curveballs and hits.

     “You can’t live through life wondering what if, Lance. You can’t live through life thinking your father was wrong in saving you, if you do, then you’ve betrayed everything he gave his life for.”

     Anger roared within Lance’s chest. “You...I’m not betraying him!”

     “If he could hear you right now. If he was standing in front of you right now. How do you think he would feel?”

     “I...” Damn it. Shiro kept throwing him off-guard.

     Shrio plunged in further. “You saved Coran without a thought. You shoved him out of the way of a bomb. You nearly died for Coran. Why?”

     “I just...acted. I couldn’t let Coran get hurt.”

     “Your dad acted, because he couldn’t let you die.”

     Lance stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. As if he was finally seeing something in a different light. He always wondered why his papa saved him. Why he was the one that died, and Lance was the one that lived?

     “I can’t answer that. But your dad...he loved you. From what I’ve seen, you and your dad...” Shiro smiled. “You guys are very much alike. Anyone ever tell you that?”

     Lance gazed down at his feet and shifted on them. “Ah, my Mama did, once, before I left for the Garrison.”

     “Lance, what happened was an accident,” Shiro said. “A tragic accident. I...”

     “What do you have there?”

     Shiro and Lance stepped back at the sudden voice. Oh. Their surroundings had changed. How did they not realized they were now in another memory?

     Fifteen-year-old Lance stood near the doorway of his family’s household, holding a thick envelope, in his other hand were the rest of the mail.

     Mama was tiding up the couch, the rest of the family slipping away into the other room.

     Lance smelled the aroma of vaca frita, his favorite dish that his older sister Marisoa made for Friday night family dinners.

     Teenage Lance dropped the other mail into a pile on the side table next to the doorway. “It’s...a reply from the Galaxy Garrison.”

     He slowly turned back to her and held it out the manila envelope.

     “I can’t open it.”

     Mama chuckled and pressed her hand over his. “It’s pretty thick, mi hijo. I’m sure it’s good news.”

     Teenage Lance bit his lower lip. “But...you guys need me here. After everything that’s happened the past year, how can I...”

     Mama cupped her son’s chin. “Lance. Is this what you truly want to do?”

     He slowly nodded.

     “Open it.”

     He used his pinky to pry into the corner of the folded tab and ripped it open. He pulled out the stack of papers. “We are pleased to inform you...”

     Mama squealed and hugged Teenage Lance.

     “Ma-mama!” Teenage Lance exclaimed. “I...can’t BREATHE!”

     Her loud cheers caused the rest of the family to rush into the living room.

     “What is it?” Javier asked, holding up their niece.

     “Our Lance is going to the Galaxy Garrison!”

     “The space program?” Uncle Gustavo asked. He beamed. “What will your main focus of study be?”

     Teenage Lance rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh...a pilot.”

     He smacked Teenage Lance’s back. “You’ll be a great pilot!”

     Javier scoffed. “He’ll be nothing but a pathetic cargo pilot.”

     “Have you seen his wild side?” Uncle Gustavo roared out a howl. “He’s going to be a fighter pilot.”

     “That’s great!” Marisoa cheered. “Where is it?”

     Teenage Lance’s face fell. “Ahem...well, it’s...in Arizona.”

     “The States?” Abue gasped.

     His nephew’s chin quivered. “You-you’re leaving us?”

     Guilt slammed in Teenage Lance. He opened his mouth, yet Mama put a finger on it to silence him.

     “Papa would’ve wanted you to go. I’ll be honest, mi hijo, a selfish part of me wants you to stay, but...go, Lance. Accept it.”

     Teenage Lance’s eyes swelled up with tears. “Mama...”

     She pulled him into a hug. “Oh, my precious hijo, oh...I love you.”

     “Seriously?” Javier yelled. “You’re going to let him go off and throw his life away?”

     “Javier!” Mama snapped as she stepped back from Teenage Lance. “I will hear none of it.”

     “But...Que diablos. You’re going to let Papa’s death be in vain?”

     “ _Javier,_ ” Mama chided.

     While Lance winced as Javier set their niece down and stormed off, he smiled at his Mama. He missed her. So much.

     “I hate to ask,” Shiro asked. “Where’s your Abuela? I assumed she attended every main family event.”

     Lance glanced away from the scene and tapped the side of his thigh. “She, uh, refused to hang out with the family if I was there. And, Mama pretty much banned her from us after how she treated me at the funeral.”

     “So that was the last time you saw her?”

     Lance whined. “Shiro. Why did you have to ask that?”

     They both stepped back as they watched Teenage Lance knock on the front door of a small house. He was dressed in the casual outfit he now normally wore all the time in the Castle.

     The door opened to reveal a scowling Abuela.

     Teenage Lance lowered his arm. “Eh, hi, I’m...”

     “What do you want?” she snapped.

     Teenage Lance swallowed a lump. “Erm, I’m sure you’ve heard from Javier that I’m leaving for the States for...”

     “Ah yes, because you have grand delusions in becoming a pilot.”

     Even now, Lance wondered why the hell he bothered to come to say goodbye to her. Because she was Papa’s Mami?

     Teenage Lance shook his head, the same thought going through his head. “Right. I just wanted to come by and say goodbye.”

     “You’ve said it.”

     He scoffed. “You know, I can understand after Papa died, but, I don’t get it. You’ve hated me for years. What did I ever do to you?”

     Lance hated how the last question came out more as a whine than a bold question.

     Abuela flicked a glance over him. “You’re weak.”

     Lance felt a prick at his heart. The same thought haunted his mind every day. _Weak. Weak. You’re nothing but weak, Lance._

     “I used to be like you. Weak. Pathetic. Trusting. I grew stronger. I got tough. Looking at you...you make me feel ashamed to be your abuela.”

     Teenage Lance stepped back, hurt welling in his eyes.

     “You think you’re so tough going to the Garrison, don’t you? You’ve got your entire family fooled, but not me. The Garrison is known for weeding out the meek. They’ll snuff you out and break you. And your family, I promise you, they’ll see you like I see you.”

     “Papa saw something worthy in me,” Teenage Lance argued.

     She threw her head back and laughed. “He pitied you, foolish boy. If you came here thinking I would wish you luck and give you a hug goodbye as you leave for the States, you’re sorely mistaken. The Garrison would finish off what the ocean started.”

     She slammed the door in his face.

     Teenage Lance blinked. He chuckled bitterly and shook his head, but he left a lingering look upon the door. A look of longing...and need for acceptance. He held onto it for as long as he could before he stepped back and walked away.

     “You don’t believe that you’re weak, Lance, do you?” Shiro asked.

     Lance blinked and stepped back. “Wh-what? Of...of course not. Psha, I’m the greatest Paladin the universe has ever seen and they’re going to throw a parade for me someday.”

     Shiro stared right through him. “I’m sorry, Lance. I didn’t realize...your false arrogance is...a really good mask.”

     Lance held up his hands. “Stop it, Shiro. The last thing I need is your _pity._ I don’t want anybody to give it to me.”

     A flash of irritation crossed Shiro’s features. He gripped Lance’s shoulders and glowered. “Listen to me, Lance, and listen closely,” he drawled in a low voice. “You are a very important member of this team. You matter.”

     Lance took a chance and peered into Shiro’s eyes. Tears welled as he found nothing but honesty within them. “Shiro...”

     “You bring light into this dark place. You bring jokes. Sure, I might scold you, or get annoyed, but...it’s like, having a little brother fighting alongside me. I need that, Lance. I need to annoyed over a bad joke. I need to get frustrated when you’re flaunting a skill. I need to roll my eyes when you’re flirting. You pull me away from the nightmares, Lance. I need you to keep doing that. You matter to me.”

     Lance couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He mattered to his...idol? He always thought Shiro found him to be like an annoying pebble in his boot. He firmly believed that Shiro didn’t like him.

     “You’re wrong. I’m still getting to know you, but, I like what I’ve seen so far. Everything I’ve seen here makes me realize there’s more to you than you put out. I’m sorry, Lance, as a leader, I failed you.”

     Lance shook his head. “No, you didn’t, Shiro.”

     He reached up and gripped Shiro’s shoulders as well.

     “You’re my hero. I admire you. Yeah, you may not be perfect, but...”

     White flashed across Lance’s vision and Shiro disappeared. Lance stumbled about, staring at the vast white all around him.

     “Shiro!” Lance cried out. “Shiro!” His chest seized in panic.

     “Relax, my dear boy,” Coran’s voice boomed. “He’s...”

     His voice suddenly cut off.

     Lance glanced about, not liking the growing silence, not liking the pure whiteness.

     “Guys?”

     Nothing.

     He turned and nearly jumped back as he caught sight of Dark Lance sitting across from him.

     He twirled the blue bayard in his hands and smirked cruelly at Lance. “You’re trapped now. There’s no way they can get you out.”

     Lance took a step back.

     Dark Lance’s smirk only increased. “Oh, I thought you said you wanted to stop running, Lance. Don’t you get what you truly have to face?”

     “The worst of myself,” Lance snapped. “I get it. I have to face you.”

     Dark Lance chuckled. “I’m not the worst of yourself.”

     Lance blinked.

     “You are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be in the corner with a box of tissues crying. Please let me know what you think! <3


	6. Step into the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is trapped in his mind...and has to face the worst of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK! Sorry it took a while for this update. I STRUGGLED with this chapter. SO MUCH. Urgh. I wanted to make it perfect and ensure that you all will like it and enjoy it. I'm pretty much satisfied with the end product, but man....I STRUGGLED. This isn't the last chapter, there's still one more! 
> 
> I want to thank all my reviewers, all the amazing comments and kudos. Every single one of you rocks, and inspires me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. <3

_Will I just keep on running away from what's true?_  
  
_All I ever do is run_  
_So how do I step in_  
_Step into the sun?_  
_Step into the sun...._

* * *

__

An unsettling coldness dropped into Lance’s stomach.

     “What do you mean?” Lance said, taking another step back.

     Dark Lance scoffed. “Don’t you realize who you’ve been running from this whole time? You. Come on, man, look at yourself.”

     _Weak. Pathetic. Loser. Unworthy._

Lance glanced around as he heard the thoughts echo throughout the white space. Where was he? Why couldn’t he hear the others?

     Dark Lance aimed his blue bayard and fired a shot.

     Lance leapt out of the way, but his other self wasn’t aiming for Lance and the laser beam nearly grazed Lance’s ankle as he landed. He shot his gaze to the scorched mark on the white ground. He raised his gaze to Dark Lance, appalled.

     Dark Lance watched him intently.

     What was his other self up to? He was about to voice such concerns when he caught sight of something blue spiraling up from the bullet mark on the ground.

     Blue tentacles wrapped up around Lance’s legs, mid-drift, torso, and his arms. He struggled to move out of its grip, but he was locked in place.

     Panic seized his heart.

     “What is this? Let me go!” Lance cried out.

     Dark Lance inspected his bayard. “I’m an extension of you, Lancey-Lance. We’re in the deepest part of your mind. You want this.”

     “Okay, I may have had some kinky fantasies, but you being the other person is just going a bit too far!”

     Dark Lance chuckled. “Yeah. Even we’re not that much of an egomaniac narcissist.”

     “Glad we’re on the same page,” Lance said. “Now let me go.”

     “Don’t you see? I’ve won. No matter what you do, you’ll never beat me, and you’ll never get out of here.”  
     “Oh, I’ll beat you,” Lance snapped. “Trust me, I have no problem punching you in the face!”

     “That’s your problem,” Dark Lance said. He walked forward, slowly, enunciating each of his next words. “This whole time, you’ve been eager to hunt me down and punch me. It had always been your problem.”     He stopped in front of Lance. “Look at me.”

     “I am.”

     “No. I mean, truly look at me.”

     Lance furrowed his brows, but he tried to comply anyway. He relaxed his eyes and stared at Dark Lance, not seeing what his other self... He blinked.

     It was like looking into a mirror.

     Dark Lance’s skin was no longer dark. His eyes were amber-brown, and the fangs that he had were gone.

     “You kept seeing me as this vicious monster,” Dark Lance said. “I’m not separate from you. I am you, I’ve always been you.”

     Quiznak, Dark Lance even sounded normal, he no longer had that low growl in his voice.

     “I know you, Lance,” Dark Lance. “I know that you _want_ to be trapped here.”

     The cold spread from Lance’s stomach to his heart. “What?”

     “You don’t want to wake up.”

     Lance shook his head. “That’s not true. My team needs me, I need to get out there! I don’t want to be in this place! Do you think I revisited my worst memories for kicks? I did what you wanted me to do!”

     Dark Lance made the bayard in his hand vanish and he brushed his hands. “You faced the worst of your memories. Not the worst of yourself. And now...your biggest fear and wish will be coming true.”

     Biggest fear? No. Lance shook his head. Dios mio. No!

     Dark Lance continued: “That’s right. Look around you, Lance. You are completely and utterly alone. You’ll be trapped here, for years, for decades, who knows how long the concept of time works in the mind. You’ll be alone for ages, until you die.”

     Lance trembled. “Do-don’t. Don’t do this. Le-let me out.”

     “You’ll be trapped here with the person you hate the most,” Dark Lance whispered. “Yourself.”

     “Don’t you do this...”

     Dark Lance leaned in toward Lance’s ears. “Meanwhile, I’ll be taking over. Your mind is nice and pure now, but when I’m done, you’ll be surrounded by darkness...” He chuckled cruelly. “And rain.”

     In a flash, Dark Lance vanished.

     “NO!” Lance cried out. He tugged at the tentacles, trying to rip himself free. “No!”

     The silence of the place hovered around him and pressed against him. Stop shaking. Lance inhaled a breath, trying to still his beating heart. STOP SHAKING.

     “Coran!” Lance screamed. “Please! Get me out. You got everybody else out...why not...” He lowered his head. “Please. Get me out of here!”

     His chin touched his chest and he struggled to even his breathing.

     At least the others were safe. That’s all that matters.

     “I...deserve to be here,” Lance said. He slacked in the tentacles’ hold and closed his eyes.

     _I deserve to be dead._

_I’m weak._

_I’m not worthy to be a fighter pilot._

_I can’t believe I call myself a Paladin of Voltron. I’m a joke. I’m no hero._

_I don’t save anybody. I only bring death to others._

_They..._

_They’ll be better off without me._

A sob erupted from Lance that it almost took him by surprise. Another ripped through him and soon he was a loud mess.

     Was this...was this the worst of himself? Was this what Lance already knew and tried to ignore?

     Was he truly a nobody?

     Was facing the worst of yourself...facing the truth of yourself?

     Abuela was right about him.

     Lance went slack in the tentacles’ hold, surrendering his will to fight.

     The silence wrapped its arms around him, and it felt more like a chokehold than a hug.

* * *

  


     “Coran! If you don’t open this door right this second, I’m going to break it down!” Keith screamed.

     Pidge and Hunk each grabbed an arm and yanked Keith back.

     “Keith! Calm down,” Hunk said. “Getting angry isn’t going to help Lance.”

     Keith spun to Allura. “The screen is white! Something’s happening to Lance! And we have no idea what!”

     Hunk wheezed in a breath and bend over, hands on his knees.

     Keith faltered and watched as Pidge rushed to Hunk.

     “Is...Lance has to be okay. He has to be,” Hunk said.

     Allura stood near the screen, face strained and conflicted. She glanced up toward the room Coran was in. Apparently, Coran locked them out after Allura rushed out to aid Hunk when Coran first extracted Hunk from Lance’s mind.

     Keith didn’t like this. This silence, not knowing what was happening.

     “Listen, Princess, you have to open that door! ORDER CORAN TO DO IT NOW!” Keith yelled.

     A hand suddenly rested upon Keith’s shoulder and he knew by the soft pressure who it was. His cheeks grew warm, knowing that Shiro had witnessed his temper tantrum. He peered up through his bangs toward his mentor and brother.

     Shiro gave him a soft understanding smile before he turned to Allura. “What’s going on? Why won’t Coran let us in?”

     “I’m not certain,” Allura said. “I think perhaps because he knew how certain Paladins would react.” She looked pointedly at Keith.

     Keith huffed, crossed his arms, and glanced away.

     “Coran understands better than any of us what Lance is going through.”

     “Why make him go through it?” Keith yelled. “He got us out, why not Lance?”

     “I was able to get you out because Lance wants you guys out,” Coran’s voice static over their comms. “It’s is part of Lance’s inner nature. I was certain I would extract you easily.”

     “The Blue Paladin’s self-sacrificing nature saved you all, not Coran,” Allura said. “However, because of that trait, the more his subconscious helped pushed you out, the more it trapped him deeper into his mind.”

     “So...” Hunk said. “What you’re saying is that Lance’s is trapped so far into his mind that we can’t get him out no matter what?”

     Pidge shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. Coran, let me in that room, I can hack into Lance’s mind and...”

     “No can do, Number Five. Besides, the mind is a dangerous place to hack into. If I allowed you access into Lance’s mind, who knows the recuperations for extracting him so roughly from his mind. What you would bring back would not be the Lance you know.”

     “Like bringing back his creepy mean self?” Hunk asked.

     “Or a non-functioning Lance,” Shiro said.

     Allura nodded in confirmation.

     Keith gapped as his fellow Paladins and Allura’s fight stances slumped, looking dejected. “No!” Keith snapped. “I refuse to believe it.”

     “Keith...” Shiro said.

     “You don’t get it! Lance saved me! I...we...” Keith stuttered.

     _“You’re Keith, man. I’m honored to call you, my friend. I promise, I’ll start being the friend you deserve.”_

It wasn’t fair.

     His father was taken from him.

     Shiro was taken from him.

     And Lance...

     “We have to get him out, Shiro,” Keith said.

     Pidge and Hunk turned to Shiro as if their leader had an answer for everything.

     Shiro sighed, suddenly appearing to have aged dramatically. “I think I understand what Coran means, Keith. Lance saved us, but to get out of his mind, he has to save _himself._ ”

     Keith blinked. “But...you saw him, Shiro. He doesn’t believe he’s worthy of being saved.”

     Hunk cursed, which surprised Keith.

     Fear filled to the brim within Pidge’s eyes.

     Slowly, one by one, they all turned to face the prone Lance, chest raising and falling as if in a deep slumber.

     “What if we go back into his mind?” Pidge suggested.

     Keith perked up at this. He spun toward Shiro.

     “It was Sendak’s quintessence that activated the true essence of the mind-melding exercise with the intention of killing you all. Lance’s quintessence wouldn’t accept you back into his mind,” Coran said.

     “Sendak,” Shiro said. “Is he still a threat?”

     Allura shook her head. “We’ve clear our systems.”

     “That’s what you said last time,” Hunk snapped.

     Shiro held up a hand and cast Hunk a look of warning.

     “So, what?” Keith said. “We just sit around and wait? How long will it take for him to wake up?”

     None knew the answer to that, and they waited for Coran to supply an answer.

     “I’m so sorry, my dear boy,” Coran whispered over the comms, mostly toward Lance. “I should’ve disabled this feature when I had the chance.”

     “It’s not your fault, Coran,” Allura said.

     “Can he still hear us?” Hunk said.

     “I’m afraid he no longer can,” Coran said.

     “He’s alone,” Pidge said. “He’s all alone in there.”

     Keith unhooked his red bayard from his belt. “No, he’s not.” He activated the bayard and it transformed into his sword.

     “Keith?” Shiro asked softly as Keith stepped away from them.

     He walked over to Lance and sat next to his...friend? It felt strange to think that now. Yet it felt right. He grabbed Lance’s right hand, lifted it, and slid his four fingers through the opening slit of his sword. He folded Lance’s fingers over it, yet kept his own hand on the sword so that it kept its shape.

     “You’re a fighter, Lance,” Keith said. “Come on, wake up. You made me a promise. Let’s have more crappy bonding moments that you’ll forget.”

     Hunk chuckled as he approached them. He took off the yellow headband from his forehead and tied it around Lance’s head. “I’m with you, bud.”

     Pidge took off her glasses and put it on Lance’s. It sat crooked and awkward on his face. “Me too.”

     Shiro sat down next to Keith, activated his cyber-arm, and held the hovering purple hand over Lance’s chest. “We’re all here for you, Lance.”

     Keith closed his eyes, and waited. He didn’t care. He would be there for his friend if... _when_ he woke up.

* * *

  


     Rain drizzled upon him.

     Lance wearily blinked and lifted his head from his chest.  

     A crack formed in the sky, dark like ominous storm clouds in the distance.

Lance groaned. Stupid Dark Lance. Getting the better of him.  _How am I going to get out of this?_

Lance tugged at his binds once more, not really putting his heart into it.

     _Keith would’ve gotten out by now._

_Heck, Javier would’ve woken back up and probably asked for another shot at the mind-melding exercise._

Lance’s shoulder slumped.

     _Javier probably wouldn’t have gotten himself and his entire team trapped into his mind._

Javier would’ve been the better Paladin. He didn’t even have to try hard at swimming and he was a pro at it. He didn’t have to try hard at school, and he aced everything.

     Lance worked his butt off to get into the Galaxy Garrison, and it was also the glowing recommendations from his swim coach and his Uncle that probably truly helped him get in.

     As much as he loved his family, they always viewed Javier as the star. It was always: _“Oh, Javier, you’re so good at swimming.” “Oh, Javier, you’re going to make a woman very lucky to have you.”_

What was Lance good for?

     The only time his family came to him was when they needed something. Babysit the kids? Ask Lance. Help cook dinner? Ask Lance. Run errands and take his Abue to the doctor. Ask Lance. Need advice after a bad breakup. Ask Lance. Needed someone to cheer you up. Ask Lance.

     Good ol’ dependable Lance.

     And in the end, he left them.

     Sure, they were supportive, but they must’ve been so relieved to see him go.

     Javier seemed to be happy to have his dimmed-star younger brother gone.

     Mama had one less child to worry about and take care of.

     The blue tentacles dug deeper into his skin and Lance cried out at the flare of pain.

     Dios mio! What was that?

     He released a cry of frustration.

     Why was he trapped here?

     What had he done to deserve this?

     _Kill Papa, that’s what._

_Stayed stuck as a nobody._

Lance grunted. He was tired of this. Tired of being trapped here. Tired of his crappy stupid thoughts!

     Most of all, Lance was tired of feeling worthless.

     Feeling like...he didn’t matter.

He jerked as he felt a tingle in his right hand like the sun grazed it with a kiss.

     Huh?

     He blinked as a red bayard sword formed in his right hand. Keith’s sword?  What? How was that possible?

     He raised his brows as he felt a stringy headband tie around his forehead. Hunk?

     He reeled his head back as thick-framed glasses sat on his nose. He chuckled. Pidge?

     A warmth spread upon his chest and Lance glanced down to see a purple handprint radiating above his shirt. Shiro...

     Tears sprung to his eyes. His teammates. They...he didn’t know how they were doing this, but he could sense them. They were here.

     He didn’t get it. They saw everything. Why hadn’t they run away from him yet? What did they possibly see in him?

     Why did he matter so much to them?

     _“You’re family, Lance. You saw everything about me and accepted it, even my anxiety. What makes you think I won’t do the same for you?”_

_“You...I came back to Voltron because of you. I decided to join Voltron because of you!”_

_“Because...you’re...you’re Lance.”_

_“You pull me away from the nightmares, Lance. I need you to keep doing that. You matter to me.”_

     Lance smiled.

     Why was he always focusing on the worst of himself? Maybe...if they saw something worthy in him, they saw something that he was missing.

     He chuckled to himself as a thought occurred to him. If there was a Dark Lance, maybe there’s a Light Lance.

     “YES! Finally! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to get your attention?!”

     Lance shot his head up and gapped at the sight of himself. He was dressed in his normal attires, and looked normal, except...every inch of him seemed to glow and shimmer a bit, like someone dumped a bucket of glitter all over him.

     “You’re...”

     “I’m you, yes. The devilishly handsome wonderful you. And no, someone did not dump a bucket of glitter all over me,” Light Lance said. He tapped his chin. “Though, note to self, we should try that on Keith sometimes as a prank.”

     Lance laughed. “I’ll definitely file that away for future use.”

     “That’s the spirit! Now come on! Let’s get out of here! Don’t lose your mind to the dark!” Light Lance beamed.

     “Uh, little problem here,” Lance said, gesturing to the binds. “I’m, ah, little tied up.”  
     Light Lance scoffed. “You expect me to get you out of that? Come on, where’s the fun in that? You’re the one who got yourself tied up in the first place.”

     Shame crept up Lance’s neck and he felt his ears grow warm. He remembered when he got himself tricked and tied up by Nyma. He pushed it back and summoned up his anger instead. “Hey! I thought you were supposed to be the nice one!”

     Light Lance jerked a finger toward Lance’s face. “Hey! You’ve constantly ignored me! Don’t assume we’ll be bffs now!”

     Lance blinked. What? Oh...that’s right. _I always looked at the worst of myself. I never really looked at the good parts._

“Trust me,” Light Lance said. “There are a lot of them!” He held up a fist and extended a finger. “Remember when you stayed up all night with Mami, consoling her after Papa died?” He extended a second finger. “Or when you bailed Hunk out from getting in trouble when he had an anxiety attack at the Garrison and you took the blame for it.” He extended a third finger. “Or when you babysat your nieces and nephews and always goofed off with them?” He extended a fourth finger. “Or when you decided to follow your heart and join the Garrison?” He extended a fifth finger. “Or when you secretly went to your brother’s matches and cheered him on?”

     Lance couldn’t help the small smile form on his face. A huge part of him wanted to reject everything that Light Lance said. _So what! That’s nothing compared to all the crap you’ve done! All the mistakes you made! The death of..._    

     He ignored those thoughts.

     Light Lance lowered his hand. “You wonder what they see? It’s all that. They even see your dark side. Your Papa saw both, and he loved you.”

     Papa...

     Lance squeezed his eyes shut as he was overwhelmed with a wave of grief once more.

     _Why...why did you save me?_

_“Your son is an abomination. He should be the one dead.”_

Lance winced at the echo of Abuela’s words.

     _Damn it. I’ve been listening to her this whole time. Worst, I believed her. I’ve always believed her. I’ve criticizing myself, putting myself down, preparing myself, out of the fear that she’s right about me._

_That I’m nothing._

     Light Lance stepped back, watching.

     “Damn it, Papa,” Lance muttered. “Why did you save me?”

     He tried to imagine how Papa would answer that. What would Papa say?

     “Don’t ask why Papa saved you, Lance,” Light Lance said, voice lined with sympathy. “That’s a question you’ll never be able to answer with certainty.” He cocked a brow as something occurred to him. “Though...Abuela thinks he was wrong to save you. Javier thinks you becoming a pilot made Papa’s sacrifice in vain.” He shrugged. “What do you say to that?”

     _They’re right. They’re right. They’re..._

“Gah!” Lance cried out. “I’m so sick of having these stupid thoughts!” He tugged at the binds. “I’m tired of believing them! I’m tired of trying to convince myself.”

     He jutted his chin out, raised his gaze and spoke with utter conviction: “I’m going to prove to them that Papa was right in saving me.” He inhaled deep breath. “I’m going to prove that to myself.”

     Lance cried out and raised Keith’s bayard, slicing through the blue tentacle and freeing his right hand. He hacked himself free.

     The rain had picked up, pellets smacking against Lance’s face. He tried to turn his head from the onslaught, but the rain seemed to pour from everywhere.

     Dark storm clouds closed in, and Lance briefly had a flash-back of the night Papa died. He pushed through. No.

     Light Lance grabbed his arm. “Nice going!”

     “Where is he?” Lance yelled over the roar of the rain.

     “You should know! He’s you!” Light Lance screamed back.

     Which means...

     “DUCK!” Lance shoved Light Lance out of the way of a laser beam.

     Which means he would be laying in the wait, as a ninja sharpshooter.

     “Why is he attacking you too?”

     Light Lance barked a raucous laughter. “He was aiming for you, not me.”

     _Pow-pow!_

     He rolled across the ground and winced as he felt a burn flare upon his left shoulder. A quick glance revealed a painful graze.

     Dios mio.

     This made no sense. There was no place for Dark Lance to hide here. Unless, he was hiding in plain sight like Light Lance was.

     _Okay. How do I bring him out? Uh, I’m a worthless piece of..._

“Crap?”

     Lance released a startled scream and leapt back.

     Light Lance and Dark Lance shared a concerned look.

     _Boom!_

Thunder rolled and the rain came down harder that Lance struggled to make out his other selves.

     “Come on, Light Lance!” Lance exclaimed. “He’s right there!”

     “Um, yeah, no,” Light Lance said. “Like I said. This is your fight.”

     “Wimp,” Dark Lance taunted, aiming his blaster at Light Lance.

     Lance Light only glared back, unamused. “Go on. I dare you.”

     Great. Now Lance was getting a headache. How did that work? How did you get a headache when you’re already in your mind?

     “Well, it’s probably from all this rain,” Light Lance said.

     Lance shook his head, ignoring the pulsing throb and raised Keith’s bayard sword. The tip of it pointed toward Dark Lance’s face.

     “No more running. This is where I beat you,” Lance said.

     “Look around you,” Dark Lance sneered. “I’m already in control.”

     He snapped his fingers and suddenly a wave of water crashed into Lance, sending him spiraling and flowing down toward Dark Lance.

     Dark Lance reached out and gripped Lance’s neck. The muzzle of his blaster rested against the underside of Lance’s chin.

     “Pow,” Dark Lance sneered.

     Lance didn’t hesitated. He swung...

     At nothing but air.

     “What?” he stumbled about searching for Dark Lance. He glanced at Light Lance who simply shrugged.

     “Yeah, you’re of no help!”

     Light Lance sighed. “Don’t you get it, Lance? Why are you fighting him?”

     “Because if I don’t then he gets in control,” Lance said. “I can’t let that happen.”

     “He’s a part of you, Lance,” Light Lance said. “Just as I am.”

     “I know he is,” Lance said.

     Lance gazed his surroundings for Dark Lance. What was it that Coran said when all of this started? Defeat his inner self...too bad he didn’t tell Lance how!

     The rain smacked against his face, and Lance stumbled into a puddle. He glanced down. Wait. Dark Lance mentioned that he hated the rain.

     Why did he hate the rain?

     Lightning clapped and thunder rumbled.

     Lance shielded his eyes from the rain as he raised his left arm.

     Lance loved the smell of rain. Most the people in his town always cowered themselves or rushed through the rain, trying to find a dry spot. Lance always ran out into it. He danced in it, kicked the puddles, jumped in the puddles, and splashed them. He loved the feeling of the rain pattering on his face, getting his clothes drenched and stuck to his skin that he had to peel them off. He trained for swimming outside, either in a pool or in the ocean. The best time to go swimming was when it rained.

     Did a part of him truly hated it?

     Lance sneezed and Pidge’s glasses nearly fell off his face. Hunk’s headband felt tight now that his hair was wet and mangled. He could barely feel the heat from Shiro’s robotic hand.

     He watched the heavy torrent of the rain.

     Lance didn’t like this part of the rain. Yet he accepted it, acknowledged that occasionally the rain had its dangerous parts. It didn’t make him hate the rain less. It only added more character to it.

     Oh.

     Light Lance smirked, yet turned his head to hide it.

     Lance lowered his arm and glanced at Keith’s sword.

     “Thanks, buddy,” Lance said. He laid the sword on the ground. He took the headband off, slipped Pidge’s glasses from his nose and ears and set them on top of Keith’s sword. He pressed his hand against the purple handprint on his chest and sighed.

     “I’m okay, Shiro.”

     The handprint disappeared.

     Lance rose back up, and straightened himself out.

     “I think I get it now,” Lance said to Light Lance. “Dark Lance is me, but he’s everything I’m afraid of becoming. He’s the parts of me that I don’t like. But...” Lance smiled. “A huge part of me loves the rain, and a tiny part of me doesn’t like the rain during crappy storms and such. It doesn’t make the rain less compelling, does it?”

     Light Lance shrugged, yet the smile grew. “I don’t know. You tell me. Are you afraid of the rain?”

     “I know the rain. I accept the rain. I don’t fear it. And I’m...”

     “Still standing there gob-smacked like some idiot,” Dark Lance taunted. “You really are a dumb weakling.”

     _Is fighting him accepting myself? Is fighting him acknowledging the worst of myself? What is the worst of myself?_

     Lance turned to face Dark Lance whose gun was aimed at him.

     “I’m not going to fight you,” Lance said.

     “Oh?” Dark Lance cocked a brow. “Why not? Finally realized you’re going to lose? That’s you’re pathetic?”

     _The worst of myself is my fear...the fear of being nobody. I’ve allowed it to control me. I’ve always allowed it to control me, even when I refused to acknowledge it._

     “Why should I?” Lance said. He glanced up at the rain. They were in his mind, _his_ mind. He cocked a grin. “I’m the one in control, not you.”

     Dark Lance narrowed his gaze.

     _Turn the rain into a drizzle,_ Lance thought.

     The rain danced around them, light on their skin.

     _Add a little sunlight to this place._

Sun rays slipped through the cracks of the storm clouds, and poured upon them, adding warmth.

     “Maybe a little beach too?” Light Lance asked.

     Lance chuckled and pictured a sandy beach. He laughed as he found himself sinking into the sand.

     Dark Lance scoffed. “You still haven’t beaten me.” He pulled the trigger.

     The blue laser beam hovered in front of Lance’s face.

     “You don’t control me. I won’t let you!” Lance yelled.

     The gun vanished from Dark Lance’s hold, the laser beam flickered out of existence, and the dark storm clouds above vanished, leaving puffy white clouds in its wake and a bright blue sky.

     “I know who I am. I’m afraid of proving Abuela right. I’m afraid that there’s nothing special about me. I’m afraid that people will see that and leave me. I’m so desperate for approval because I never really got it. I always had to compete for it, but you know what...”

     Tears welled up in Lance’s eyes.

     “They still love me.” Most of his family, his friends. “Maybe...maybe I just needed my approval.”

     Lance sniffled.

     “Maybe...maybe you need it too.”

     Lance couldn’t believe what he was doing, but it felt right.

     “Please don’t kill me,” Lance pleaded before he rushed forward...

     And hugged Dark Lance.

     Dark Lance stuttered. “Wh-wh-what ar-re you doing?!”

     Lance reached out and tugged Light Lance to join them in a group hug.

     “Hunk always said...” Lance started.

     “Hugs can heal the world,” Light Lance finished.

     “This is ridiculous,” Dark Lance snapped.

     “Oh shush, you love it,” Light Lance teased.

     “I’m sorry,” Lance whispered.

     Everyone kept trying to tell him, but he didn’t believe it, a part of him still doesn’t believe it, but he’s willing to work on it.

     He was somebody special.

     “Don’t make me gag,” Dark Lance mumbled.

     “I love this! Squeezey hug now!” Light Lance exclaimed.

     His arms tightened around them and Lance gasped as his lungs threatened to expand.

     After several moments, the three of them stepped apart from one another.

     Dark Lance huffed and crossed his arms. “So, you’re in control.”

     “Yes, I am,” Lance said.

     “Hmmm, for now,” Dark Lance said.

     “You missed his declaration earlier!” Light Lance said. “He’s going to prove to everybody that Papa was right in saving us!”

     Right. Lance had said that. He brushed a thumb against his nose and grinned. Ha. Bring it. He’ll prove it.

     Dark Lance raised a brow. “Huh. This is new.” He chuckled. “We’ll see how long this’ll last. I’ll be lurking in the shadows, and when you slip out, I’ll be back in control.”

     “Geez, can’t you ever just root for the guy?” Light Lance whined. “You’re such a downer.”

     Lance watched the rain. He stepped into the rays of the sun and felt her warmth caressed his face.

     “I miss you, Papa,” Lance whispered. “I wished...you were here.”

     “Lance?”

     Lance turned back to his other selves. Light Lance peered close at him, while Dark Lance brooded and looked bored.

     Lance smiled. “There’s...something I want to see.”

     Light Lance stepped back and gestured to the place. “You’re in control. What do you want to see?”

     He closed his eyes, imagining it, the salt in the air, the soft ocean breeze, the sand between his toes.

     He heard screams of joy and excitement which caused him to open his eyes.

     Varadero Beach.

     The best place in the world.

     “Watch out for the shark monster!” Papa growled as he skimmed the waves and grabbed a kid Lance who squealed in delight.

     Javier swam onto Papa’s shoulders. “I’ve got him, Lancey-Lance!”

     Lance chuckled fondly at the sight. His heart yearned for him. _I just want to hug him, one last time...I..._

“Hey there, Lancelot.”

     Lance froze.

     He slowly turned and widened his eyes at the approaching figure, the outline of his body glittering like Light Lance’s.

     “Papa?”

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for happy endings...I hope you guys enjoyed it! There's still one more chapter! WOO!


	7. Just Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has defeated the worst of himself. Yet before he can leave his mind, Papa appears on the horizon...it is him or a memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. WHAT A RIDE. THIS IS IT FOLKS. THE LAST CHAPTER. I WANT TO THANK EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU FOR SHARING THIS JOURNEY WITH ME, FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS, FOR YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT, SUPPORT, LOVE, AND COMMENTS. THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. YOU ARE ALL GREATLY APPRECIATED.

     

     Lance’s heart thudded, hope caught in his throat.

     “Papa?” He repeated. “Is it...is it really you?”

     Papa’s mustache crinkled as he smiled. “Almost. I’m a part of your quintessence, Lancelot. I will always be a part of you.”

     Lance’s lower lip quivered.

     A squeal pierced the moment, and the two of them spared a glance at the beach scene, watching Javier and kid Lance wrestle with Papa in the water.

     Papa chuckled fondly before returning his gaze to Lance. “I’m proud of you, son.”

     Lance’s throat worked. How...how long had he yearned to hear those words again? Was it real? Or was it merely another invention in his head?

     “It’s real, if you allow it,” Papa said.

     Lance wiped at the tears that spilt and just took in the sight of his papa.

     Papa’s eyes twinkled. “So, you’re a pilot. Do they call you Red Five?”

     Lance chuckled, yet it came out as a mixture of a sob and laugh. “I found my adventure in space, Papa. Like you knew I would. It’s just...” He sniffled.

     “You feel like you have no clue what you’re doing.”

     Lance actually laughed this time. “Not a single clue.”

     “Want to know the real secret?” He winked. “None of us do. From what I’ve seen, Lancelot, I think you’re doing a pretty good job.”

     Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a Paladin, Papa. I set out to be a space pilot, and I ended up being a Defender of the Universe! There’s more at stake if I screwed up...” His voice lowered. “I already have.”

     “We all make mistakes.” Papa’s face fell. “I made a lot of them. Promise me, Lance, never let your mistakes take over your life. Move on, stay focus, and clear.”

     Lance’s throat worked. “Even if a particular mistake cost you your life?”

     “You think that was a mistake? Son, that was an unfortunate event.” He stroked his mustache before he gave Lance a soft smile. “Saving your life wasn’t a mistake. I’d do it all over again if I have to.”

     “Why?” Lance’s breath hitched. Here it was. The answer he’s always wanted to know. “Why did you save me?”

     Papa’s smile grew. “Isn’t it obvious? Because you’re Lance.”

     That’s it? The answer was really that simple? Lance didn’t know how to feel about that. He felt a little disappointed.

     “That’s not _it,_ Lance. That’s everything. You are everything.”

     Lance bit his lower lip to stop it from quivering.

     “Seems to me you became Luke Skywalker. He wanted to be a space pilot as well, and became much more. I’m sorry, mi hijo. Seems like adventure found you, and it was the dangerous kind.”

     “Be careful what you wish for,” Lance muttered. “Truth be told, I kind of like it, you know? I feel like, this is what I’m supposed to be doing, but at the same time, I miss everybody.” He studied the image of his father. “I miss you.”

     “I’m certain you’re greatly missed. You carry a lot of love for people. Don’t lose that. Continue to give it to your team, and they’ll give it back tenfold.”

     “Yeah, I think I got pretty lucky with that.”

     “You did. I couldn’t ask for you to be surrounded by a better group of people.”

     Lance smiled, thinking of Pidge, Hunk, Keith, Shiro, Coran, and Allura. Heck, even his growing bond with Blue.

     “You’re loved, Lance, whether you believe so or not. Promise me, you’ll learn to love yourself. Please. It kills me to see you so hard on yourself.”

     “Yeah, um, yeah, I’ll try, Papa.”

     Papa lightly tapped Lance’s chin with his fist. “Cheer up! Don’t look so down!”

     “Well, then stop saying such mushy crap! You know how it makes me!” Lance argued.

     Papa laughed. “I know you may be Defender of the Universe, but don’t forget to have fun...don’t forget to laugh. That’s one of your best qualities.”  
     The memory around them began to dim and fade into a blissful white.

     “Live well, Lancelot. Love with all you have. Laugh with every fiber of your being. And continue to be you,” Papa said. “I love you. I’ve always, and will always, love you.”  
     He pulled Lance into a hug, a hug where Lance felt safe and warm and protected. A hug that was full of his childhood. A hug that Lance never wanted to break apart from.

     “I love you too, Papa,” Lance cried.

     He inhaled a whiff of his papa’s cologne, the sweet smell of sandalwood mixed in with tobacco. The child in Lance begged Papa to stay, to not leave him, to...

     “I will always be with you.”

     Lance squeezed Papa harder, there was something he needed to say...something...

     Papa faded from Lance’s hold.

     Lance’s arms sagged forward and he opened his eyes, staring at the blank canvas before him. No...

     “I...” Lance wiped at his eyes. “Thank you...Papa.”

     “He meant it, Lance.”

     Lance turned around to face Light Lance.

     “He’s a part of you.”

     His heart ached and cried out for Papa, but Lance inhaled a deep breath and placed a hand over his chest. It was real. They were finally able to have a proper goodbye. He had to believe it was real.

     “I know,” Lance said. “I know that now.”

     Dark Lance huffed, his arms folded across his chest. “Prove it then. Prove it by showing he was right to save you. You’ve never proven me otherwise.”

     A wave of hot anger surfaced within Lance’s chest and he glared at Dark Lance. “Screw you,” Lance snapped. “You’re the one who kept forcing me to look at my own worst memories, how was I to think otherwise!”

     Light Lance held up both of his hands, stepping in between them. “Enough.”

     Lance rolled his eyes and glanced back where Papa last stood. He replayed the man’s parting words over and over in his head, to ensure he wouldn’t forget it.

     “Are you ready to wake up?” Light Lance asked, his voice soft.

     Lance inhaled a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so, but...” His heart beat painfully in his chest. He needed something. But what? He turned back to Light Lance with a smile. “Show me the best of myself?”

     Light Lance beamed, his glow brightened and he clasped his hands together. “Yes! Let’s do this!”

* * *

 

     The floor was cold.

     That was the first thought that entered Lance’s mind as he slowly woke from consciousness. He wearily blinked, opening his eyes to stare at the dull distorted ceiling. Why was everything distorted?

     He wiggled his nose as he felt a weight upon them and noticed that Pidge’s glasses were still on him. He chuckled fondly as he took it off with his left hand. Lance slowly lifted his head, Hunk’s headband tugged at the wires connected to the electrodes on his forehead.

     He smiled at the sight before him.

     At his left, Pidge curled up on Hunk’s side, a weird snoring-puff noise erupted from her lips every ten seconds. It was kind of cute, he couldn’t wait to tease her about it.

     He went to move his right hand and froze as he felt the heavy weight on it. He glanced down and a blush flared up within his cheeks as he noticed Keith’s hand in his, to ensure that the bayard still maintained its sword form.

     “We are so forgetting about this bonding moment,” Lance whispered as he slipped his fingers from Keith’s grip.

     Keith muttered softly and adjusted his body a bit as he continued to sleep.

     Shiro was sprawled out across the floor next to Keith, his right arm extended out and next to Lance’s side. It may have fallen off sometime during the night.

     Allura laid against the wall, the mice resting upon her legs.

     Lance’s heart swelled at the sight of his odd new family sleeping around him, waiting for him to wake up.

     A movement caught Lance’s attention and he flicked his gaze upward. His breath caught in his throat.

     “Coran?”

     Coran took a hesitant step forward. Lines strained across his face and red framed his eyes. He looked worse than how Lance felt.

     “I...my dear boy, I...”

     Lance’s chest constricted. He felt exposed, and opened. He wanted to curl into himself and hide away from everybody. They saw parts of him, memories that he never wanted them to see. Memories that he wasn’t ready to see again.

     Being back in his body, it was like he could feel the emotional weariness of what he went through times ten.

     As much as he wanted to curl into himself, this was Coran.

     Lance raised his arms. “Lance is still open for hugs. Come on in.”

     Coran’s eyes narrowed. He stroked his mustache, a move that reminded Lance of his papa. Maybe that’s why he took an instant liking to the man. “Lance.”   

     Lance lowered his arms. He placed the glasses back on Pidge. “Look, I’m not ready to talk about it, or discussed what happened,” he whispered, not wanting to wake anybody up.

     “I don’t expect you to, Number Three,” Coran said. “I’m sorry, I wished you didn’t have to go through all that.”

     “I...” Lance swallowed a lump. “As much as I hated it, I’m...kind of glad I did?”

     “You don’t sound so certain,” Coran said.

     Lance chuckled softly. “Yeah. Can I still get the hug anyway?”

     Coran shook his head, amusement and fondness grew on his features. He came around Pidge and Hunk, and lowered himself to his knees.

     Lance immediately wrapped his arms around him, and the raw invisible wound on his chest didn’t seem so exposed as it was covered by Coran’s hug.

     “I’m proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy. I knew you could get out of it.”

     “Defeat my inner self, huh? You meant I had to defeat me, not Dark Lance.”

     “Sometimes foreknowledge can be dangerous,” Coran whispered back.

     Lance didn’t know how to respond to that, so he hugged Coran tighter. Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes.

     “Uh, Pidge, your elbow is in my rib,” Hunk muttered, half-angrily, half-asleep.

     Pidge made a weird snort as she woke up. “Wh-huh?”

     “Your elbow is...”

     “Lance!” Pidge exclaimed.

     Coran slipped away from Lance like a stealthy ninja, just in time for Pidge to replace his spot.

     Air whooshed out of Lance’s lungs as Pidge dove for a hug.

     “You’re awake!” she exclaimed.

     “Keen...” Lance coughed. “Observation.”

     Keith shot up to his knees, sword in hand. “Who’s there?”

     Shiro rolled to his side, in an attack position, his right hand glowing purple.

     Both of them lowered their weapons as they saw Lance.

     “Lance!” they cried out.

     Hunk covered Lance’s view of them as he rushed in to give his teddy-bear hug. “Lance!”

     “Oomph!” Lance exclaimed. He added a fond chuckle as Hunk sighed in relief. “I’m alright, buddy.”

     Shiro and Keith came in from behind, wrapping their own arms around the group.

     “Can’t breathe,” Lance cringed out.

     “Shut up and enjoy this,” Keith snapped.

     “What he means,” Shiro said with an exasperated eye-roll. “Is that we’re glad you’re back, Lance.”

     Lance caught sight of Allura joining Coran’s side from behind Pidge. He smiled at her and she responded with it in kind. She gave him a small wink that spread warmth within Lance’s chest.

     He returned his attention to those around him, the four paladins offering him support and relief that he was okay.

     He remembered what Papa told him to do in his mind.

     Give his team love, and they’ll give it back tenfold.

     He smiled in their holds and allowed himself to be bathed in their love.

* * *

 

     Lance stood in front of Blue, the vast blue Lion towered over him. Once he felt so small in her presence, but now, he felt like a part of her.

     He reached out and placed his palm on her hind-leg.

     After the group hug, Lance had told them that he needed some private time to recollect himself. They had been so eager to give it to him, yet he didn’t miss the not-so-casual concern glances they gave one another.

     The invisible wound in his chest ached, and hurt so much right now. Why did it feel like someone carved his heart out?

     He made it out, didn’t he?

     He’s going to make the effort to love himself.

     He saw the worst and the best of himself and his memories.

     Why did it hurt so much?

     There was a gentle probe at the edge of Lance’s mind. He saw a flash of blue and an insight of a mother expressing concern for her child. Is that how Blue viewed him as? Her child?

     “I’m okay, Blue,” Lance said.

     Another soft probe. Was that...an apology?

     “Why are you sorry?” he wondered out loud.

     He saw flashes of images in his mind...him revisiting his memories with his team, except it was from an outsider’s perspective.

     “Wait...you watched and didn’t do anything?” Lance stepped back and dropped his hand, suddenly hurt.

     Then he thought of Coran’s apology earlier.

     He glanced up at Blue, up into her eyes. How could they look so sad?

     He raised his hand back up and placed it on Blue. “I’m...not mad at you, Blue.”

     Another probe and he got the image of a hug.

     He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve been getting a lot of those lately.”

     He got the image of a light up-smack on the back of his head.

     “Yes, that’s definitely better, Blue.”

     Quiet companionship settled into between them.

     Lance stood there, shuffling through his various emotions and feelings. A part of him wanted to go for a ride, just to find himself again. Another part of him wanted to go to his room, lock himself in, curl under the covers and not do anything.

     Blue probed at his mind again and Lance felt a huge need to turn around.

     He glanced over his shoulder and was shocked to see Keith standing near the entrance. Mullet-head was dressed in his casual wear, red jacket and finger-less gloves.

     Keith jerked and stepped back as he noticed that Lance caught sight of him.

     Lance sighed. “Look, man, I just want to be alone right now.”

     Keith stuttered. “Well, I, ahem, I, I did promise you I would kick your ass when you got out of this.”

     Lance found himself growing amused by this. More because there was no heat behind Keith’s words, but...awkwardness. He studied his friend.

     “If you wanted to kick my ass, you wasted a perfectly good opportunity to when my back was turned,” Lance said.

     Keith scoffed as if offended. “I do have honor, you know. And I don’t need your back to be turned so I can beat you.”

     “Is that a challenge I hear, Mullet-head?” Lance taunted.

     “You bet it is...stupid-head.”

     Lance cocked a brow. “Stupid-head?”

     “You heard me.”

     “Dios mio, I’m in a fight with a five-year old,” Lance laughed.

     “Hey! Like mullet-head is any more creative!” Keith argued.

     True, Keith had him there. But like he was going to tell Keith that.

     Keith tapped his thigh and stared at Lance as if debating something. He chewed his lower lip before he took the plunge. “My dad left when I was about ten.”

     Lance blinked. That was...big and personal.

     Keith shifted on his feet and shoved his hands into his jacket pocket. “I, uh, thought he, uh, left because of...” Keith swallowed and glanced at the ground. His voice became soft. “Because of me.”

     “Keith...” Lance said. His heart went out to him. “Wh-why are you telling me this?”

     Keith glared at him. “Cuz I want to, you jerk. Because...” He threw his hands up and let out a frustrated groan.

     Lance placed his hands on his hips. “Wait a minute, Keith...are we...are we having a bonding moment?”

     “Nope.” Keith mumbled. “Moment’s gone.”

     Lance flashed a proud grin. It faltered as he turned serious. “Look, man, just because you were forced to see my darkest moments, it doesn’t mean you have to tell me yours.”

      Keith rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “Right.” He scoffed. “Forget it. I don’t know why...what, urgh.” He spun on his heels to storm off.

     Lance blinked. Did he unknowingly messed up with Keith again? Damn it, Lance, you said you were going to be a better friend. As much as Lance wanted to be alone right now...

     Lance shot out a hand. “Wait...”

     Keith halted in his steps, his shoulders shot up as if bracing for the worst.

     “What...uh...” Lance lowered his hand. “What was your dad like?”

     Keith’s muscles tightened and he turned his head back toward Lance. “What?” he hissed.

     Lance jerked up toward Blue. “I don’t feel like sleeping anyway, don’t think I could. But, ah, I would like to hear more...if you want.”

     Keith’s face softened. “Sounds good.”

     So Lance and Keith went up to Blue’s hangar, and talked. Lance listened to Keith’s story about his father, and how the man always seemed to be looking out the window, waiting for someone.

     As Lance watched Keith tell of the time he first met Shiro, he couldn’t help but be thankful.

     Lance guarded every aspect of his feelings, of his emotions, of his memories because he was terrified that people would be shunned by what was underneath.

     Keith must’ve been a kindred spirit, because first off, he sucked at telling personal stories without making it sound like a summed-up bibliography. He needed pushing and probing.

     And yet, Lance’s heart which had been left so vulnerable when he woke up, softened. Sure, Lance still felt the need to hide his heart, to burrow his shoulders, but it was manageable.

     Sometimes, though, when you brave your memories and face your true self and stand in it, it allows others to do the same.

     Keith was giving a part of himself back, not because he felt like he had to, but because in Keith’s mind, this was his way of making sure Lance wasn’t alone.

     As he felt Blue’s reassuring pressure against his mind, Lance smiled.

     This was what it meant to step into the sun acknowledge both parts of yourself.

     _I think I get it now, Papa, when you told me I shouldn’t strive to be somebody. Because being myself...being Lance...brings Keith to being Keith..._

_And eventually, Pidge, and Hunk, and Shiro, and the others._

_We’re going to make it._

_Even if the Paladin of Voltron never become a household name._

_If we follow our hearts..._

Keith tossed his finger-less glove at Lance. “Are you even listening to me?”

     “You rattle on like a mono-tone drone that I couldn’t help but zone out!”

     “You inconsiderate jerk! I’m baring my soul here!”

     “And you wonder why I forget our bonding moments!”

     Keith shoved Lance and they began to wrestle around Blue’s hangar.

     _If we follow our hearts, we find our place in the world._

* * *

 

     Lance didn’t like the look Allura gave him when he came sauntering into the training room early the next morning.

     He gave an unmasked look of worry with Shiro as he approached his leader.

     Shiro chuckled softly. “It’ll be okay, Lance.”

     “She looks like a murderer eager to finish the job.” He feigned a gasp. “It’s me, isn’t it? I thought the Princess and I had a deep connection!”

     Shiro rolled his eyes. He pursed his lips and reconsidered Lance. “You’re in high spirits.” His eyes narrowed. “Lance? Is everything alright?”  
     Lance blinked. That...Shiro was supposed to get annoyed and stressed out Lance’s name in warning. Wasn’t that the game they played? Oh...unless...

     “I’m not faking, Shiro,” Lance whispered. “Thanks. I, uh, had a good talk with a friend.”

     “Oh?” Shiro’s brows shot up as he glanced over at the other three paladins who were talking amongst each other. “Late night with Hunk?”

     Lance scratched the edge of his neck. Should he tell Shiro? Oh, what the hell. “With, eh, the kamikaze Samurai.”

     “Keith?” Shiro laughed, amused and pleased. “Good. I’m glad.” He studied Lance once again, as if seeing him in a new light.

     Lance shifted on his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. Now he wasn’t liking the look Shiro was giving him.

     “I think you two may be a good team,” Shiro whispered thoughtfully. “Maybe good leaders together.”

     “Eh?” Lance exclaimed.

     “Alright, Paladins!” Coran strolled into the room, stroking his mustache. “Are you all ready for another training exercise?”

     Collective groans were his answer.

     “We have one brief exercise to do before you all head out to your Lions,” Allura said. “One that we didn’t finish yesterday.”

     “Look,” Lance said. “I know you wanted to be the Princess to my Sleeping Beauty. I’ll just lay down here and you can wake me up with a...”

     _“Lance...”_ Shiro stressed.

     Lance couldn’t hide his grin. Good to know some things haven’t changed.

     Hunk smiled. “I think your Abuela should’ve taught you more on how to _talk_ to women, not pick them up.”

     “Thank god he thought I was a boy,” Pidge said.

     “Awww, you feeling jealous there, Pidge?” Lance wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Want me to turn the Lance-charm on you?”

     “Don’t make me puke,” Pidge dead-panned.

     “I think you have charm confused with creep,” Keith said.

     Before Lance could retort, Shiro immediately interrupted, returning their attention back to Allura and Coran. “What did you two have in mind?”

     Lance shot him a suspicious look. He could detect from Shiro’s tone that he already knows what they have planned.

     Coran held up a bundle of wires...no, wait they were brain electrodes.

     Lance stepped back, waving a finger. “Ah, yeah. I’m going to vote nada on doing that exercise again.”

     “I agree with Lance,” Hunk said. “What if something happens? Why would you put him through that again?”

     Coran locked eyes with Lance and held up a stern finger. “Remember the exercise? You had to think of a positive image of the person we were focused on. And you all were sucked into Lance’s mind because he projected a negative image of himself.”

     Lance’s gut twisted and he broke his gaze with Coran, deciding to look at the floor.

     “Hey,” Keith snapped. “It wasn’t his fault. You can’t...”

     Lance caught movement from Shiro from the corner of his eye, no doubt holding up a hand to silence Keith.

     Lance peered up and Keith gave Lance a reassuring glance. Heh. Who knew his greatest rival would end up being his greatest friend? They haven’t even been friends for over a day, and it felt like they’d been buds for years. Only because Lance couldn’t get himself out of his own head.

     “They’re not saying it’s Lance’s fault,” Shiro said. “They... _we_...want to give Lance another chance at this exercise. If we do get sucked in,” he shrugged, “well, I have no doubt we’ll have any trouble getting back.”

     Lance shot his head up, surprised by the extreme vote of confidence from his leader. It sparked something within Lance.

     “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do this. Easy peasy. Blue’s been itching to fly together with me.”

     Shiro clasped his hands together. “Good.”

     It didn’t take long for the five of them to gather around in a circle, nor for Allura and Coran to place the electrodes on the respective paladin’s forehead.

     Lance wiggled his forehead, trying to get them to pop off. No chance. He drummed his fingers against his knees, trying to steady himself.

     “Roll your shoulders back and soften your spine,” Shiro whispered from next to Lance.

     Lance cocked an eyebrow up in question.

     Shiro’s lips tugged into a smile. “It’s a trick to help with nervousness.”

     Lance inhaled a breath, rolled his shoulders back and relaxed his spine, sinking into his butt. He can roll into this exercise with confidence.

     “We’ll continue where we left off,” Allura began. “I want each of you to focus on Lance, focus on what you like about him, and project a strong positive mental image of how you view him.”

     Lance closed his eyes. Okay. He can do this.

     He inhaled deeply, settling his nerves.

     Strong positive image of himself.

     He exhaled.

     How did he view himself now?

     Inhale.

     How...he smirked. He’s got this.

     “Lance?” Allura pressed softly. “Open your eyes, and see how the others view you.”

     Oh. That’s what scared him the most.

     He pried his eyes open and gaze to his left to look upon the image that Shiro was projecting.

     His image was of Lance in his blue paladin uniform, fists on his hip, standing strong like...

     Like a leader.

     What?

     Shiro smiled at him.

     Lance turned to Pidge and he laughed at hers.

     Her image of him was Lance dressed in an X-Wing fighter jumpsuit, instead the color was blue. His head was thrown back in a free-spirited laugh.

     They grinned at each other.

     Hunk’s image of Lance was him in his swim-shorts, frozen in a dance move, happy-go-lucky and friendly spirit emanating from him.

     Hunk gave Lance a thumbs up and a wink.

     Lance chuckled and then turned to Keith.

     The mental projection in front of Keith had an image of Lance posed in battle, with his bayard gun ready for action. He radiated confident and trust as if he were communicating with Keith during a fight. Lance’s right hand was giving Keith a thumbs-up.

     Keith crossed his arms and jutted his chin out as if daring Lance to say something.

     He had to laugh at that.

     “Now look at yours,” Allura said.

     Lance slowly brought his gaze upon his own mental projection.

     It was an image of himself in his casual wear, minus the coat. He was smiling, hands in his pocket. No emotion or feelings radiated off the image.

     It was a simple image of him.

     Lance saw himself as just Lance.

     The best person he could be.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe this story is over! <3 It was such a joy to write for you all and contribute to the Voltron fandom. I hope you all enjoyed it.


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